


Under the Red Lights

by SapphireOx



Series: Out of the Storm [1]
Category: Monster High
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Human Trafficking, Internal Conflict, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Organized Crime, Physical Abuse, Sexist Language, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 108,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16891221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireOx/pseuds/SapphireOx
Summary: Clawdeen had thought she had just made another friend. Someone to connect with who had promised her a helping hand in helping her get her name out and finally making her big break in the industry.She would've never imagined that now she'd be trapped, abused, used, and left to rot among others in the darkest corners of whatever hell she'd landed in.At first, she was hopeful. Someone would notice her, someone would find her in time, wouldn't they? They'd just have to.But as the days go on, and the streets remain cruel and uncaring, it seems that hope has finally slipped out of her grasp.





	1. Prologue: Like Any Other Night

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Heavy discretion is advised. Please take the tags seriously. 
> 
> I will try to post warnings before the beginning of each chapter whenever the above goes to happen, so do read with caution if you are triggered or uncomfortable by the discussion of such events like the above. 
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story. Feedback is greatly appreciated ~ SO

( _Present Time...)_

 

It was cold out tonight.

Clawdeen shivered and crossed her arms, hugging herself through the thick material of her coat. Her breath appeared in front of her as small puffs of mist and she could feel her teeth chatter. She looked up and down the street, searching for anyone who may have looked like they were interested.

She needed two hundred more dollars to meet her quota. It wasn’t a hard amount to obtain, but the activity of potential customers had become rather stagnant over the last few hours. As of right now, except for a few druggies sleeping in the alleyway, the streets were pretty much deserted.

A chill went through Clawdeen as the wind suddenly picked up. With the halter dress she wore barely reaching mid-thigh and, having been left with no stockings after a client the other day had ripped them, her bare legs were left exposed to the bitter cold. She could feel her toes going numb in her stilettos- she was grateful she had decided against wearing the high heeled sandals she’d been thinking of earlier.

She let out a small growl of frustration as she looked around. She would have _already_ met her quota for the day a few hours earlier, but the last guy she had pinned down had turned tail and gone with Clarissa, after the latter had bent over and “accidentally” revealed her lack of undergarments, the sneaky twit. Now, it was nearing almost two in the morning, she was freezing cold, and she was still two hundred short.

Clawdeen swallowed hard, trying to push down the pit of anxiety she felt starting to form in her stomach.

If she didn’t make her quota, Aran would be mad at her. He’d raise the price for the next day, and if she didn’t meet _that,_ then he would raise it more, until he’d force her to work until she met the loan in full. But with the way things were going right now, she’d be out all night, and then he would think she was up to something. Her hands twisted in her pockets in fear at the mere thought of facing him in that state.

 _Come on, come one,_ she thought in slight desperation as she bounced her foot impatiently, _Just one more. That’s all I’m asking…_

As if some sort of scary godmother had been listening in and decided to grant her wish, Clawdeen was suddenly rewarded with the sound of an engine coming towards her. She perked up and looked up the road to see headlights appearing in the distance, before a car came cruising down the street, rolling to a stop in front of her.

 _Finally_ , Clawdeen thought in satisfaction.

The window on the passenger side rolled down to reveal a middle-aged reptilian, who leaned over from his side in the driver’s seat to look out at her.

“You need a ride somewhere, sweetheart?” he asked, looking her up and down, “It’s awfully cold out tonight.”

Clawdeen smiled and leaned forward, resting her arms on the window sill as she bent over to look in to the car.

“No,” she said in a fake sweet voice, “But I _am_ looking for a good time.”

The reptilian’s eyes lit with excitement. His eyes slowly browsed over her figure, lingering at her bust, taking in the ample amount of cleavage she had exposed to him. Clawdeen made sure to lightly wiggle her hips as he looked past her to get a good look at her rear.

“Well, well, well,” the reptilian replied with a smirk, “I could probably help you with that.”

He met her eyes, “How much?”

“Four hundred up front,” Clawdeen answered, “And another hundred for every additional hour.”

The reptilian let out a whistle, “Four hundred? Geez, you were ghouls are getting pricier by the day. You sure I can’t just take you by the ATM later?”

Clawdeen shook her head, “Sorry, hon. Pay or no play.”

Though he shook his head in disappointment, the reptilian reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Guess that’s what I get for wanting to look for quality,” he commented, digging out a few one-hundred dollar bills and handing them to her.

As Clawdeen reached for them, he shot her a grin, “I can always count on you expensive one giving me my money’s worth.”

Clawdeen said nothing, though she gave a shadow of a smile. She stuffed the money in her purse while the reptilian unlocked the passenger door, before she opened it and slid in beside him. As she buckled her seat belt, he put the gearshift into drive and started down the road again.

“So, any particular place you have in mind?” Clawdeen asked as she looked at him, “Cuz just an FYI, but if you want a motel, you’re gonna have to pay for it.”

The reptilian shook his head with a smile and reached over to put a hand on her knee. “We don’t need no motel room,” he said, “I just need to find a place to park where we’ll be all alone, and then you and me can have some _fun…”_

Clawdeen watched as his hand started to move up her thigh, feeling along her skin until it came all the way up to the innermost junction of her thigh, right where her bikini line was. She felt her hackles raise in disgust- she always hated the way they touched her- but didn’t remove his hand. As Aran had told her, once they offered up the money, anything the customer did was fair game- as long as they didn’t try to cheat you or hurt you too badly, let them do whatever they felt like was them getting their money’s worth.

The short trip was spent in silence, before they pulled into the empty lot of a decrepit and abandoned building. The reptilian turned off the engine and undid his seat belt, before he looked to Clawdeen eagerly, his smile bright like that of a toddler who’d just been allowed to roam free in a candy store.

“What’s your name, by the way, dollface?” he asked.

“Just call me Selena.”

That made him smirk, “Cute name. Well, ‘Selena’, how’s about you and me get down to business?”

“Yes sir,” Clawdeen replied.

She leaned back to reach up her dress and proceeded to pull her underwear down her legs.

Stuffing them into her purse, she then shrugged off her jacket. She could hear him moving around in his seat as he unbuckled his belt; when she turned back to face him, he had leaned back in his seat with his legs spread, his fly undone.

Clawdeen pressed herself against the console and reached for the waistband of his underwear.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm her pounding heart, she bent over and took him into her mouth.

She fellated him for a couple of minutes, getting him hard and building his arousal, until she felt him bury a hand into her hair and tug, making her look up at him. He was breathing hard, his eyes dark with desire.

“In the back,” he ordered, “The seats are already down.”

He grabbed the bottom of her dress. Clawdeen raised her arms to allow him to pull it over her head in one swift motion, before they both crawled between the seats. Clawdeen lay down on her back as the reptilian pushed his pants down to his knees and crawled on top of her, nestling in between her legs. His gaze was a hungry one as it trailed down her nude body. The smell of his arousal radiated him off him like a bad smelling cologne.

“ _Mmm_ ,” Clawdeen made a small noise as she felt him penetrate her.

The reptilian hissed in pleasure. “ _Fuck_ , you’re nice and tight.”

There was a small creaking sound that came from somewhere inside the car as he moved on her, his hips rocking at a hard, steady pace. Clawdeen kept her gaze glued to the interior of the car, waiting for him to finish. The reptilian’s grunts and groans reminded her of a wild pig, and she flinched at times when she felt his saliva drip onto her cheek and next. His hand roamed her body, roughly grabbing at the first thing it could find leverage on- her breast, her hip, her leg. She took small comfort in the fact that at least he didn’t ask her to be on top, or act like she was enjoying it.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the reptilian let out a low keen, and Clawdeen felt something thick fill her cavity. The reptilian groaned and pressed himself against her tightly, before he collapsed onto his elbows. His hot breath tickled her skin as he buried his face between the crook of neck and shoulder. A few seconds later, he pushed himself off her and rolled over onto his back.

Clawdeen sat up and fixed her hair, smoothing it down from where it had become matted from lying on the floor. She grabbed her dress and started to pull it back on as the reptilian redid his fly. She opened the door and climbed out to make her way back to the passenger seat.

As he drove back, Clawdeen counted the cash he’d given her.

“Don’t worry, I’m an honest consumer,” the reptilian joked.

“Sure,” Clawdeen muttered, continuing to flip through the wad of bills. You could never be too careful, especially with the smooth talkers- they always tended to be the ones to try and swindle you the most.

She straightened them out and shoved them back into her purse as the car pulled up to the corner she’d been standing at earlier. Pulling her coat back on, Clawdeen swung the door open and quickly climbed out.

“Maybe I’ll see you again in a few days?” the reptilian asked as she got out, “Might have to explore this area more often if it’s offering up someone of your beauty.”

He gave her a grin. Clawdeen smiled back.

“Maybe,” she said.

With that, he drove off. Clawdeen watched the car go up the street until it disappeared around the corner, before she turned in the opposite direction.

Taking a look around to make sure nobody could see her, she dug into her purse and pulled out several wads of tissues, along with her underwear. Bending over slightly, she hurriedly tried to clean in between her legs, wiping away the reptilian’s body fluids. She grimaced at the feel of them dripping down her thighs and scrubbed harder.

Once she felt she had cleaned everything up, she tossed the tissue into a drainage ditch and hastily pulled her panties back on. Letting out a shiver at the cold air, she wrapped her jacket tighter around herself and started down the street.

As she crossed the intersection and made her way past the theater, she spotted a familiar figure on the corner under the streetlight who she recognized as Aran. Her heart beat instantly picked up, though she tried telling herself that she had no reason to feel so; she hadn’t broken any rules, she was doing good with making her money, she was good. Surely there was nothing she’d done to make him mad, was there?

Aran turned away with a sneer from what looked to be a heated discussion with the Nandi bear he’d been talking with. He looked over his shoulder with disdain as the golem walked away.

“Next time it’ll be double, Andi,” Clawdeen heard him remark, before he turned to face her.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the werewolf, before they quickly narrowed into slits of annoyance. Clawdeen tried not to shrink under his glare.

“Where the hell have you been?” he questioned, “I was about ready to call Cifer to have him go looking for you.”

“I was working,” Clawdeen answered. She reached into her purse and pulled out the cash, handing it to him, “I-I needed to meet my quota.”

Aran looked down at it. He took it from her, giving her a quick look before looking back down as he counted the bills out.

“Eighteen hundred and sixty-five,” he stated, giving her an impressed look as he put the money in the inner pocket of his jacket, “You even went over. Good job, Selena.”

Clawdeen smiled; perhaps with a little too much excitement, but she couldn’t help herself. Relief swelled up in her, the feeling of a massive weight on her shoulders lifting with the assurance that she had pleased the satyr, even if it were just for the moment.

Aran nodded his head in the direction that the Nandi bear had gone. “Come on, it’s getting late.”

Clawdeen did her best to keep up with him as they made their way down the avenue, though the numbness of her feet made it hard to walk, Aran guiding her with a hand on the small of her back. They hurriedly made their way through the chilly night until they came upon a large apartment complex that looked like it had seen better days, with the walls watermarked and weeds blooming in between its concrete foundation. The lights that lit up the pathways between the apartments flickered on and off.

Climbing up the metal stairs to the third level, Clawdeen walked to one door that lay at the end on the right side of the building. She waited while Aran unlocked it, before he pushed it open and gestured with his head for her to go inside.

“I signed you up with a guy tomorrow for ten,” she heard Aran say as she flipped on the lights and crossed the threshold into the living room, “I’ll pick you up at nine, so be ready by then.”

Clawdeen nodded wordlessly, knowing way better than to object or say anything that the satyr could interpret as her mouthing off to him.

Aran added, “He’s a possible future associate- we’re going to have a meeting at one- and it’s really important that I get him to sign on. So I need _you_ to make extra sure he’s more… _convinced_ on agreeing to the matter.”

He gave her a look, “Think you can do that for me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Clawdeen answered.

Aran smiled in amusement. He gave her a light pat on her arm.

“Good ghoul,” he said, “Well, get some rest, Selena. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

With a nod, he turned and left. Clawdeen watched him go as he closed the door behind him. A moment later, she could hear his keys jangle as he locked it from the outside.

As the sound of his footsteps gradually grew fainter, Clawdeen collapsed onto the couch, grateful to finally rest her aching legs. She tossed her purse onto the table and undid the straps of her heels so she could kick them off, before she rubbed her feet. The exhaustion of the day’s events hit her like a train, and for a moment she was so overcome she thought she could fall asleep right in this spot.

The rumbling in her stomach and the uncomfortable tightness of her dress’s straps digging into her shoulders, though, kept her from such temptation, and Clawdeen sat up with a groan to take off her jacket before forcing herself to get to her feet.

She walked to the small, dirty kitchen and opened the fridge to look inside. It was near bare inside, save for an almost empty carton of milk, a half of a sandwich, and a grapefruit that looked like it was near rotting. Clawdeen reached in and took the sandwich out; it wasn’t much, barely anything more than a snack, but it would have to do for now.

Gathering a night shirt and some shorts from the pile of clothes next to the mattress in the living room, she made her way to the bathroom, where she quickly stripped out of her dress and pulled the articles on; she then grabbed the threadbare washcloth that lay near the sink and ran it under the faucet to wet it, before wringing it out and using it to take off her makeup.

After she though she had removed everything, Clawdeen turned the bathroom light off and headed back towards the living room. She walked over to the light switch that was by the front door and switched it off, encasing the room in near total darkness.

Settling down onto the mattress on the floor, she pulled the comforter up to her chin and curled into a ball, a wave of tiredness crashing over her. Her eyes fell shut and within only seconds, Clawdeen could feel herself succumbing to the blissful haze of sleep she had been waiting for all day.

**_BAM!_ **

Clawdeen jumped as something hard suddenly banged against the wall. Her eyes shot open, glowing in the dark as they frantically searched for the source of the noise.

“ _What the fuck did you do, Kimber?!”_

_“D-Daddy, let, l-l-lemme explain…”_

Clawdeen felt herself began to shake violently as her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She stared at the wall with terror, as if whoever was on the other side was about to break through it at any second.

“ _You think this is some sort of game, ey, filthy bitch?”_ James’ voice spat, “ _That you’re just gonna fuck around and piss my money away?”_

 _“N-N-No!”_ Kimber responded, her voice high pitched like that of a scared child. Clawdeen felt her throat tighten up, feeling for the young girl.

“ _Let’s get this through that empty little head of yours,”_ James growled, “ _When I put your ass on that street, you WORK UNTIL I SAY STOP! GOT IT?!”_

“ _I was, Daddy, I really was!”_ Kimber sobbed, “ _But-but the guys there, t-they wouldn’t pick me up! They kept going to the other girls!”_

 _“Oh, so now you’re lying to me? Well, guess I’ll just have to_ force _the truth out of you if you’re not going to tell me yourself.”_

_“Daddy, i-it is the truth! D-Daddy, no, please! DADDY, NO-!”_

There was another harsh bang against the wall, which was followed up by the sound of skin striking skin. Kimber screamed; the thin wallpaper did little to muffle her cries of pain and pitiful pleads for the man to stop.

Clawdeen flinched every time she heard what sounded like Kimber being thrown into something like the kitchen island. Every high-pitched yelp, sob, and shriek felt like a knife piercing her chest. Tears flooded her eyes. She bit her lip.

But she didn’t get up.

Instead, with guilt swelling up in her chest like a balloon, she simply lay back down on the mattress and brought the blanket tighter around her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she attempted to fall back asleep, gritting her teeth when Kimber’s screams continued. In desperation, Clawdeen covered her ears with her hands.

“Shut up…” she whispered despairingly, “Just…shut up…”

As much she felt for the ghoul, there was nothing she could do. She knew Kimber was telling the truth and saw for herself that she was just getting passed over for the other girls, but it wasn’t exactly like she could defend her. If she tried to, James would only turn his anger towards her for interfering in “something that wasn’t any of her goddamned business”. And then Aran would be angry for her for getting involved and thinking she was in any position to talk back to someone who was far superior to her.

At one time, she might’ve told someone like him to shove it and done whatever she could to help Kimber.

But…that was the past. This was the now. And the now was to shut up and mind your business and don’t ask questions.

Clawdeen learned that the hard way. The painful, terrifying, agonizing hard way.

Now, all she could do was try to ignore it and try to keep from staring when Kimber showed up tomorrow with her face black and blue and swollen. The same way her and the others girls did when Clawdeen appeared in the exact same condition.

Still, though, Clawdeen couldn’t keep the tiny sob from escaping her throat as she nestled under her blanket and tried to sleep despite the screams next door. She was used to it by now, but there were still times it crept up on her. The memory and melancholy of the past and what she had, what her life was now, how she ended up in this situation. To know she had the misfortune of knowing exactly what Kimber was going through- because she’d been in that same exact position plenty of times.

Not that pondering on the past few years did her any good. Nobody cared about the life she lived around here.

Around here, you were just another nameless whore used for another cheap fuck.

Resigning herself to that fact, Clawdeen rolled over and faced away from the wall. The weariness of the day’s events quickly immediately came down upon her, and she fell into a fitful sleep as she tried to stay warm against the cold.

The last thing she heard before she drifted off were Kimber’s muffled wails coming from the other side of the wall, which continued throughout the night.


	2. Chapter 1: The First Meeting

_(Five years ago...)_

 

_“And then, we walked through the garden until the sun finally set and the curfew made us leave. Then we went back to my place and just talked like there was no tomorrow,” Frankie narrated, a dreamy smile coming onto her face as she recalled the memory._

_She let out a sigh, “It was so romantic.”_

_Cleo raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh? Are you sure nothing else happened that night?”_

_Draculaura and Clawdeen giggled at the way Frankie’s face instantly went red as she realized the mummy’s implications._

_“It-it wasn’t like that! Not at all!” she exclaimed._

_“Oh really?” Cleo replied with doubt, “Is that why you’re wearing the face that every other ghoul I’ve seen here does when she finally gets laid?”_

_“I didn’t!” Frankie insisted, though the starry-eyed gaze came back, “But…he did stay the night.”_

_Lagoona put a hand to her chest and feigned shock. “Why Frankie, how scandalous!”_

_“Uuuuuggg!” Ghoulia added in._

_Frankie flipped them off, though she couldn’t hold back the giggles that came from their expressions. The rest of the group joined in, and soon enough all six of them were walking to their lockers in fits of laughter._

_Clawdeen gave the simulacrum a reassuring look as they all started doing their combinations._

_“In all seriousness, Frankie, we’re really happy for you,” she said._

_Draculaura responded, “Yeah, Jackson and Holt and you are perfect together.”_

_Frankie smiled. “Thanks ghouls. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky.”_

_“You deserve it, mate,” Lagoona said, giving her a supportive pat on the arm._

_The group’s attention became slightly diverged as they opened their lockers and switched out various items between them and their bags. Clawdeen slid her math textbook upright next to the others and readjusted them so they stacked up against the wall, before grabbing her hissstory notebook and binder and stuffing them into her purse. She looked into the mirror that hung on the back of her locker door to adjust her hair and check her makeup._

_The scent of strong perfume suddenly invaded her nostrils, before a head of bright pink hair appeared in behind her in the mirror._

_“Um, excuse me, could I ask one of you ghouls a question?”_

_Clawdeen turned. The bob of pink hair turned out to belong to a petite fairy, who regarded her with a rather intense gaze of dark blue eyes that lacked pupils or visible sclera. They contrasted heavily with her porcelain white skin, which sparkled under the lights, along with the multiple gold rings that were strung in her pointed ears._

_“Sure, what’s up?” Clawdeen asked, giving her a small smile._

_The fairy blushed shyly, holding up a piece of paper._

_“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said apologetically, “I just transferred here, and I’m having a bit of trouble navigating all the halls; not used to a building this size, you know?”_

_“It’s fine, I can relate perfectly fine,” Frankie answered, “What room are you trying to find?”_

_The fairy handed her the paper, which had a class schedule printed on it. She asked, “Do any of you know where Room 324 is? I’ve been walking up and down the stairs through every hall for the last twenty minutes, and I still can’t find it. And I’d rather not be late to my third class of the day.”_

_Her flush deepened with embarrassment. Clawdeen gave her a sympathetic expression._

_“What do you know, that’s actually where my next class is!” she exclaimed, “Textiles 113, right? With Mrs. Seal?”_

_“Yeah, actually,” the fairy answered._

_“Well, if you want, we could walk there together,” Clawdeen suggested._

_“Really? That…that would be great!”_

_Clawdeen nodded. She turned to the rest of the group. “Well, I’ll see you ghouls at lunch, then. But I gotta bounce.”_

_The girls and her exchanged brief waves, before she whirled on her heel and began to walk side by side along the fairy, the two of them navigating through the crowds of others in the hallway. As they walked, she faced the fairy._

_“What’s your name?” she asked, hoping that a little conversation would help break the ice._

_The fairy responded, “I…I’m Gem. My dad and I just moved here from…um…S-San Francisco.”_

_“Wow, all the way from Cali? Well, at least you’ll finally be able to get a little rain,” Clawdeen joked, “Even if it does pour for weeks straight.”_

_Gem gave a half-smile. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked up at the vast halls of Monster High, her expression filled with wonder._

_“Yeah,” she said, “It was good, but it was too crowded, and my dad’s work couldn’t handle the competition. At least here there’ll be more…opportunities.”_

_She said the last part with a bit of hesitance, as if unsure of what exactly to call their reasoning for moving, but Clawdeen brushed it off as being a factor of possible shyness. She also quickly became distracted by a flash of red in her peripheral._

_Looking down, Clawdeen’s eyes widened at what she saw. Her head shot back up to give Gem a shocked expression._

_“Are those actual Jimmy Boos?” she asked, pointing to the fairy’s footwear._

_Gem smirked, nodding as she lifted up her leg for the werewolf to get a better look. Sure enough, Clawdeen could see the familiar designer logo on the bottom of her scarlet stiletto heels, of which were covered in glittering rhinestones._

_“Christmas gift last year,” Gem said, “Daddy got them for me.”_

_“I saw them in the Ghosmo winter issue when the Boo York fashion show was going on,” Clawdeen said, “The cheapest price must’ve at least been three hundred dollars.”_

_“Daddy’s a rich man,” Gem replied, “We have his work to thank for that. He helps keep me up with all the latest trends.”_

_Clawdeen’s eyes brightened with curiosity as the two of them walked into the classroom. She kept her gaze on Gem even as she pulled out a chair and slid into her seat._

_“Really? What does he do?” she asked._

_Gem paused; for the briefest moment, Clawdeen had thought she had seen a flash of fear in the fairy’s intense blue gaze, but it quickly disappeared._

_“H-H-He’s an agent!” she answered, “Yeah, a-a modeling agent! You know, he looks at girls’ photos and helps them get shoots booked and all that._

_“I went with him to watch a couple of photo shoots and overtime it grew on me. I guess you could say that’s why I’m here,” she said, “Thought I could get a couple of pointers for when I get to doing my own thing.”_

_“Well I’ll say, you’ve come to the right place, “Clawdeen assured, “Mrs. S knows everything there is when it comes to fabric and making something out of it. I’m surprised she isn’t working for Dior or Booey Vuitton with all the designs she manages to come up with.”_

_Gem simpered, “Glad to hear that. I’ll keep her in mind.”_

_Throughout the hour, Clawdeen helped Gem get acquainted into the class. She explained the kind of homework- two paragraphs a week reporting on something to do with textiles, such as an article from a craft magazine or a program on knitting- their current project (a collage of different things to represent a house layout), how the grading system worked, and what their final assignment looked like. Gem listened with rapt interest, writing down quick little notes in her planner, which, Clawdeen noted, appeared like it had seen better days with its ripped pages and battered cover._

_At one point, Mrs. Seal went to the front of the class and began asking trivia questions on certain styles they’d been studying and their history. Clawdeen raised her hand for all of them; for each one she was called on, she got the answer right._

_“Right again, Ms. Wolf!” Mrs. Seal exclaimed as Clawdeen correctly gave an explanation about the misconceptions of hoop skirts, “I must say, with all this history you’ve given, I almost suspect you have some kind of plan to bring these vintage items back into style!”_

_Clawdeen giggled, “Sorry to let you down Teach, but honestly I’m learning my history to make sure that these vintage clothes stay vintage.”_

_Mrs. Seal and the rest of the class laughed at her remark. As she calmed down, Clawdeen felt someone looking at her, and turned to find Gem staring at her, the latter’s mouth hanging open in shock and her eyes big like she had just seen a shooting star._

_“You…you really know a lot about fashion,” she commented._

_Clawdeen shrugged, picking up her pencil and jotting down some notes. “Well, I figured if I’m ever going to make it in the industry one day, I might as well read up on how the big name brands got their head start to get where they are.”_

_For a moment, she wrinkled her nose. “And also learn which people should be avoided at all costs,” she muttered, the memory of Madame Ghostier and the whole Scaris fiasco putting a frown on her face._

_Perking back up, she added, “Also I found in general it can help strike up inspiration for a new dress or shoes whenever I’m feeling a bit dry.”_

_“You make clothes?” Gem asked._

_Smiling, Clawdeen nodded. “Been designing outfits ever since I learned how to draw. Started sewing when I was thirteen. I want to have my own fashion line when I’m older, start my own business and stuff. I just know when the day comes, everymonster will be racing to the newest line from House of Clawdeen.”_

_She put her hands up and spread them like she was revealing a sign as she narrated her hypothetical brand name. Gem giggled; Clawdeen grinned back as she put her hands down._

_“Unfortunately,” she added, “As of now, I’ll just have to settle for a shift at Gloomingdale’s and my friends allowing me to use them as mannequins.”_

_Gem nodded._

_“I…I’d like to see these designs of yours sometime,” she commented, quickly adding, “I-If you’re comfortable with it.”_

_Clawdeen looked at her with surprise. She rubbed the back of her head with a slight grimace._

_“Oh, well, I don’t know. I mean, I don’t really show a whole lot of people my stuff. Not that I think any of it’s bad, per say- I mean, it’s pretty hot stuff, if I do say so myself- but I just feel like there’s always room to improve…” she explained._

_A small twinge of guilt ran through her. She knew she was perfectly within her rights to refuse Gem’s request- after all, save for her friends and her mom, only a very small number of people got to see her sketchbook, much less someone who was very much a stranger- but a small part of Clawdeen couldn’t help but still feel like it was a bit rude._

_Gem, however, didn’t seem to take any offense to being denied. In fact, she gave Clawdeen a little nudge, a playful gleam in her eyes._

_“Oh come on,” she insisted, “I promise I won’t steal any of your ideas.”_

_Clawdeen snorted, “I see, that’s what you really wanted.”_

_“I won’t, honestly!” Gem declared, “I just wanted to see if maybe someone’s work could spawn my own creativity. Daddy makes sure that I’m always up to date with the latest trends and collections, but there’s so much stuff on the market that sometimes I can’t figure out exactly what to put together!”_

_That part reminded Clawdeen of Draculaura and all the times she had to help the vampire pick out a dress for a dance or a date (“You have over sixteen hundred years’ worth of clothes in here, how can you not manage to find at least something?!”  “I can’t just wear anything! Some of this stuff has lost its taste centuries ago!”) and she laughed in amusement._

_As she tried to muffle herself, she failed to notice the way Gem’s gaze narrowed on her, or the sly glint that appeared in the fairy’s bold blue gaze._

_“Well,” she stated, “Don’t worry about it. I totally get it- you don’t want anyone to see until everything is absolutely perfect. I’ve been there before.”_

_Clawdeen nodded in confirmation, grateful that her turndown didn’t make things awkward between them._

_“Yeah,” she explained, “I mean, I know a lot of it’s pretty good, it’s just I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get more of a second opinion from someone who’s had more experience in this type of business.”_

_Gem’s eyes lit up in sudden excitement. She eyed Clawdeen up and down like that of a snake that spotted a fat mouse. Slowly, she inched towards the werewolf, leaning close to her as if to tell her a secret._

_“You know,” she said in a low voice, “I know some people that would really want to have a look at-“_

_**BRRRRRRING!** _

_Right before she could finish, Gem was suddenly cut off at the harsh sound of the bell ringing. Immediately, students started moving around and packing up their bags, their chairs scraping against the tile as many shot out of their seats and began to hurry for the door. Mrs. Seal, having been cut off from her lecture in the middle of her sentence, shouted at them to remember that this week’s essay was due in two days._

_Clawdeen stood up and started packing up her bag. After placing everything she needed, she zipped it up and threw it over her shoulder, turning to face Gem._

_“So, what’s your next class?” she asked, “Any other rooms you need help finding?”_

_Gem pulled out the wrinkled paper and glanced down at it. She answered, “Looks like I have biteology next?”_

_“Oh, that’s way easy: it’s right at the front,” Clawdeen said, “I could still walk you there, if you want. I only have lunch right now.”_

_However, Gem shook her head. She cocked her thumb at the door._

_“No thanks. I actually have to head outside for a second to make a phonecall,” she said, “But thank you for offering._

_“And thanks for showing me the way to here,” she added._

_“No problem,” Clawdeen said, smiling warmly, “Don’t be afraid to come by me and my friends again if you need anything.”_

_Gem smirked at her, bowing her head slightly._

_“Oh, believe me, I will,” she replied, “I most definitely will.”_

* * *

  _(Present time...)_

 

“Well, Mr. Hoovestein, I must say, this is quite a generous offer of yours,” the vampire said as he counted out the cash in his wallet, “Normally I’m used to extended resort stays and gift baskets of wine, but _this_ , this is definitely something new.”

“Are you complaining?” Aran joked, holding his hand out for the money.

The vampire shook his head, “No, actually quite the opposite! In fact, something tells me I’m going to enjoy the use of these new… _services_.”

Clawdeen sat on the bed, watching silently as the vampire finished handing out his payment. Aran took it gratefully, flicking through the tops to make sure it was the correct amount, before he nodded at the vampire and shoved it in his pants pockets.

“Nice doing business with you, Mr. Bloodmarch,” he said, gesturing to Clawdeen, “Just be nice to Selena, she’s my best girl.”

“Oh, I will,” the vampire replied, looking over his shoulder to her.

“A delicacy like her deserves to be savored,” he replied with a grin, licking his lips.

The action, coupled with the sensual look in his eye, made Clawdeen want to throw up.

Aran snorted in amusement. Him and the vampire started their way towards the door.

“I’ll be back by noon,” he told the vampire as the latter opened the door for him. The vampire nodded in agreement. Aran then looked to Clawdeen, making eye contact.

“Be good,” was all he told her.

He narrowed his eyes at her, sending her a small glare. Clawdeen nodded obediently, understanding the unspoken message from that glare to know what it meant, and the underlying threat it also presented. _Don’t fuck it up._

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll spank her if she misbehaves,” the vampire joked. 

Him and Aran bid their goodbyes, before he closed and locked the door, leaving Clawdeen all alone in the room with him. 

He turned back around to face her. Clawdeen put on her best seductive smile and sat back on the bed. She could smell that he was already heavily aroused as he trekked across the room, coming to a stop right in front of her. Clawdeen tilted her head up at him, extending her foot out to rub against his shin playfully. 

The vampire reached up and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks, before he reached down to kiss her. Clawdeen responded back, pressing back against his and allowing his tongue to press against her as she opened her mouth. At one point, she pulled back and lightly bit down on his bottom lip, making sure to make eye contact with him. The vampire hissed in excitement. 

" _Cara mia_ ," he whispered, diving to claim her lips again. Clawdeen let out a moan as he moved down to kiss her neck and along her shoulder; she felt his arms wrap around her, and allowed him to slowly lay her down on the bed. 

"So sweet, so soft," she heard him say as he gently caressed her, lowering his head to gently place a kiss at her collarbone. 

Clawdeen rolled her eyes. She never got these romantic types: yeah they were nice and gentle and all, but who were they trying to impress? She didn't think many girls would be impressed on hearing how sweet you acted on a prostitute. Even though they did pay well. 

The vampire pulled back, looking deep into her eyes. Like she were a long time lover. 

"Take off your clothes, my dear," he whispered. 

Clawdeen forced a smile. "Only if I get to take off yours too." 

That seemed to do the trick, as she saw a rush of excitement in his eyes and felt his hard-on press against her thigh. He went back down and resumed kissing her neck. Clawdeen reached up and ran her hands up and down his chest, earning herself a groan as she started undoing his shirt buttons. 

Though, it wasn't all bad this time. At least it was in actual room and not the back of a car this time, she thought to herself, or against the wall of a filthy bathroom. At least in hotel rooms, it was warm and private and there were actually beds. 

She tried not to think about how pathetic the thought sounded. 

 _Nevermind that,_ she thought to herself. She had work to do. She had to stay focused. 

Taking a deep breath, she suddenly put her hands to the vampire's chest and rolled them over, leaning back so that she was straddling his waist. The vampire glanced up at her, a mix of surprise and arousal in his eyes. Smiling at him, Clawdeen reached behind her. 

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she gripped the zipper for her dress and slowly started to pull it down...


	3. Chapter 2: The Last Moments of Peace

( _Now…)_

 

“Yo, Sel, you got a mirror?”

Clawdeen turned to see Starla approaching her. The phoenix looked rather rough this morning, her hair barely tamed by the messy bun and a noticeable limp in her step as she struggled to balance on the thick platform boots that gave her petite figure a bit more height.

Digging in her purse until she found the small compact she always carried around, Clawdeen held it out to her.

“Thanks,” Starla said, opening it and looking in it as she applied her lipstick. The plum colored shade she had chosen was a stark contrast to her tangerine orange hair; Clawdeen thought it helped highlight her eyes.

“Rough night?” she asked as Starla handed her back the compact, noting how she stretched her arms above her head and the deep yawn that escaped her.

Starla snorted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket.

“More like I just spent three hours in an amateur BDSM dungeon,” she retorted, putting one between her lips and cupping her hand around the end to light it.

She took a long drag before blowing it out, a pinched expression on her face as she recalled the previous night’s events. She continued, “Son of a bitch went at me like he was trying to break something with his pelvis. Pulled my hair so hard I thought for a second he dislocated a disk.

“The sick fuck even tried to put his fist in my ass,” Starla added, “And then had the nerve to get _mad_ at me when I said no. Put it up your own ass, you fucking weirdo!”

Clawdeen giggled at the phoenix’s expression. Starla shook her head in disbelief, her fingers gesturing in reference to the ridiculousness of the story.

She took another drag, flicking ashes at the ground. She rested her elbow in the palm of her other hand.

“And then of course I have to have Bryce getting on my ass the second I walk in the door for staying out too late and not telling him,” she said bitterly, “I make over twelve hundred in a single night, enough to meet my quota for the next two weeks, and still get my ass beat. Fucking asshole.”

She put the cigarette to her lips; her eyes widened as she seemed to realize what she had just said. She turned sharply to Clawdeen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

“Don’t tell him I said that,” she said.

Clawdeen nodded, “I didn’t hear a thing.”

They stood in silence afterwards, the two of them just gazing blankly out at the neighborhood as they waited for new potential clients to show up. The smell of cigarette smoke itched at Clawdeen’s nose. She wafted her hand in front of her face to try and dispel it away.

She turned her head to glance at the worn-down smoke shop at the end of the block, only to wince as the chain on her necklace brushed against the raw skin near her clavicle, making the area sting slightly. Clawdeen reached up to adjust it, rubbing the tender spots as she felt the welts that still lingered there.

Her last client the night before had been a stockbroker whom Clawdeen had quickly discovered had a liking for being rough. Though he didn’t sound nearly as kinky as Starla’s described customer, he had still manhandled her quite a bit, his grip at times being nearly bruising and his heavy body feeling nearly crushing on top of hers as he threw his full weight into his thrusts. He had been a werecat, and his claws dug and dragged at Clawdeen’s skin, sometimes hard enough to draw blood.

He had paid the two full hours he requested in full, though, and even left a generous tip, so Aran considered his behavior to be perfectly fine, and paid little attention to the swollen red marks Clawdeen bared when the two were done.

She heard Starla sigh heavily and looked out the corner of her eye to see her drop the cigarette to the ground. She stepped on it and ground her toe against the ground to put it out.

“Shit,” Starla said, shoving her hands in her pockets, “Listen to the two of us, talking about who got fucked harder in the literal or figurative sense like a couple of school ghouls giggling about our dates to the bonecoming dance. The hell’s wrong with us?

“Like for god’s sake, we’re talkin’ like this shit is _normal_. Like every other chick’s got a pimp and waits for whoever he tells her to screw next,” she added with a scoff, “I tell ya, Selena, sometimes I can’t help but look back and wonder what we ever did that pissed the universe off so badly that we ended up here.”

Clawdeen shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden turn in conversation; not that she necessarily enjoyed hearing about the Starla’s latest sex misadventure, but at least there was some humor to be found in it.

The topic of _back then_ , however, was just depressing. It didn’t matter how much you yearned for the good times or how 20/20 your hindsight was or how many times you wished you “had only known then”, it wasn’t going to change anything. Whatever had happened, happened, and even though everyone wished they could’ve done things differently, all you could do was accept it and try to make the best of now, if even to make tomorrow just a little less shitty. 

Not to mention it was also dangerous, if you said the wrong thing around the wrong people- Aran just liked to mock, but people like James and Bryce tended to take it as a sign you were up to something.

However, Starla’s words had triggered a rush of memories for the werewolf, ones she tried to push away to no avail. They came at her abruptly, and though she hated getting reminded of her situation, Clawdeen found herself thinking back to _those_ days. Those days and how they had become tainted once _she_ came into the picture. How everything seemed so much easier and happier and how she was happy and naïve and _free_.

Whatever had occurred- whether this was just a horrible stroke of coincidence or some higher power at work or karma or some crap like that, Clawdeen didn’t want to think about it. Partly because just thinking about everyone almost always made her cry.

But mostly because sometimes, when she let herself dwell, it frightened her just how _easily_ things seemed to have all fallen into place…..

* * *

 

( _Then…)_

_“Stupid little- come on,” Clawdeen growled as she ran the brush through again, only for the stubborn little lump of hair to remain. Gritting her teeth, she slammed the brush down and took to running her fingers through her hair, attempting to smooth down the stubborn lump._

_It wasn’t that big of a deal, the hair being out of place. It probably wasn’t even noticeable to most people unless they took the time to carefully observe her hairstyle. But Clawdeen didn’t care; it was noticeable to_ her _, and therefore it was important and needed to be fixed._

_Finally, after a few minutes of digging her claws through the thick strands and nearly slapping her scalp in an attempt to flatten it, she finally managed to get rid of the lump of hair. Satisfied, Clawdeen let out a ‘hmph’ and gave her figure one last final lookover in the mirror, before she turned for the doors and made her way out the bathroom._

_“H-Hey, Clawdeen! Hey, wait up!”_

_She looked over her shoulder to see Gem rushing towards her, her pink head like a marker as she weaved through the crowds going to and from their classes. She came to a stop next to the werewolf, a big smile on her face._

_“Oh, hi,” Clawdeen greeted, “You on your way to class?”_

_Gem shook her head, “I actually gotta leave in a little while. My dad’s picking me up for an appointment. But I saw you and thought I should give it to you while we’re here instead of having to wait until another day.”_

_Clawdeen raised an eyebrow. “Give what to me?”_

_The fairy’s grin widened as she swung her backpack off her shoulder and pulled it open, pulling out some kind of thickly bound book and holding it out to her in excitement. Clawdeen looked down at it, her brow furrowing in confusion; she looked back up at Gem, the latter only nodding in encouragement as she shook the book briefly as a gesture for her to take it._

_Grabbing it, she flipped through it. Her eyes widened as doing so revealed dozens of what had to be some of the most beautiful fabric samples she’d ever seen. Small squares of every color, texture, and pattern graced the hemp pages; her mouth dropped open in shock as she caught a glimpse of what she thought was golden orb weaver silk._

_Now even more puzzled, she looked up at Gem._

_“What…what is this?” she asked._

_“It’s for you,” Gem answered, gesturing to the book, “I remember you were talking about wanting to find new types of fabric to use for some new designs you were working on, so I got in touch with a friend of my dad’s to see if she still had some leftover stuff I could give to you.”_

_“You…you got all these for me?”_

_Gem nodded excitedly, “Do you like it? I made sure to ask for some of her best pieces.”_

_“Do I like it?” Clawdeen repeated, flipping through the book again. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she gave the fairy a big grin, “Some of these have got to be some of the most expensive stuff in the world! I don’t even think Cleo or Lala would be able to afford them!”_

_She hugged the book to her chest. “Thank you, Gem! Thank you, thank you, thank you!_

_“But…you didn’t have to do this,” she added, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at her little display._

_While it was quite a generous gift, and it wouldn’t certainly help her in figuring out the materials she wanted to use for the dress she’d been envisioning in her head for the past few weeks, it was quite excessive. Considering all the fabric swatches contained in the book, it probably would’ve taken Gem quite a few hours to assemble everything._

_Gem, seemingly sensing her hesitance, just waved her off._

_“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she countered, “I was kind of wanting to do this. Consider it a token of thanks._

_“I mean, you and your friends have been so nice to me and have been doing everything to help me fit in here. So I’d thought I’d do something to show my appreciation.”_

_“You really didn’t have to,” Clawdeen insisted._

_“I know,” Gem smirked, “I wanted to.”_

_That got a smile from the werewolf. Giving a nod of understanding and resigning to her generosity, Clawdeen took the book and placed it in her bag, making an effort to be delicate as to not risk any of the pages getting bent from the force and therefore any of the fabric possibly ripping out._

_“Really, though, thank you,” she repeated once again as she adjusted her shoulder strap, “These are going to make the final outcome so much better! I can already imagine other designs that I can use the others for!”_

_Gem giggled at her starry-eyed look, “Don’t mention it._

_“After all,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “What are friends for?”_

* * *

 

_Later that evening, when her and her siblings were gathered around in the downstairs table trying to do homework and her mom was in the kitchen making dinner, Clawdeen took a break to show off the little gift she had received._

_Harriet let out a long whistle as she looked through the pages, leaning back against the counter to carefully observe each piece of fabric._

_“Salamander skin, Stymphalian bird feathers- holy shit, real boar leather?” she glanced up at Clawdeen with an eyebrow raised. “And who did you say gave this to you?”_

_“My friend Gem,” Clawdeen answered, grinning giddily at getting to present the book, “She just moved here; she said she made it as a thank you for helping her get adjusted to school.”_

_Harriet looked back down at the book, something akin to disbelief on her face. “She must know quite a few big shots to get you samples like_ these. _Some of these squares probably cost more than the whole mortgage on the house.”_

_“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Clawd said, looking up from his chemistry notes, “Yeah, they’re pretty cool looking, but it’s just cloth. It’s not like it’s threaded with gold.”_

_Clawdeen huffed at him, “That’s because you don’t know anything about presentation.”_

_“It is weird, though,” Howleen said with a frown, “I mean, that’s lot of work to have put in considering this chick barely knows you. If you ask me it’s pretty overkill.”_

_“Maybe some people like doing overkill,” Clawdeen argued, “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to exactly say no.”_

_Howleen simply shrugged, turning back to her phone. “Just saying.”_

_Harriet handed the book back to her with a smile of encouragement. “Well, I think it was very considerate of this ‘Gem’ to make such a thing. Anyone who’ll go to such lengths clearly cherishes your friendship.”_

_“Yeah, or they want to show off,” Clawd muttered._

_Clawdeen shot him a look. What was with his and Leena’s negativity? They didn’t know Gem- as far as she knew they hadn’t even had a glimpse of what she looked like- what was their damage?_

_Before she could bite out a response, however, Harriet put a hand on her shoulder._

_“No matter, it’s a lovely gift, Clawdeen,” she assured, “And if it makes you happy, it makes me happy._

_“And I’m sure **everyone** else is happy for you too, aren’t we kids?” she added, the last sentence louder and laced with her trademark tone of warning. _

_Clawdeen could see Howleen and Clawd roll their eyes; obviously they didn’t feel like they had to give her what they probably felt was an ego boost, but also knew they had no choice lest they face the threat that lay behind their mother’s words. Whenever Harriet used_ that _tone, you listened and did what you were told. No exceptions._

_“Yeah, sure, I guess,” Clawd said, only really half-paying attention by this point as he continued punching numbers into his calculator._

_Howleen shrugged, “Whatever. Just promise she’s not another Cleo if you end up bringing her over here one day?”_

_Clawdeen smirked, “I can assure you she’s the opposite.”_

_Pacified by this response, Howleen gave a curt nod before she turned to the fridge, pulling out a soda and popping the top. She took a long swig before wiping her mouth and leaving the kitchen._

_Harriet turned back to the stove, taking the lid off the pot of sauce she’d been cooking and using a wooden spoon to stir it._

_“So what is she like? Your friend?” she asked, lifting the spoon for a taste test._

_Clawdeen placed the book beside her bag, grasping the edge of the sink as she leaned against it. She thought for a moment._

_To be fair, her and the ghouls were still a bit in the beginning stages of getting used to Gem, and the fairy the same; she sat with Clawdeen in the few classes they had together and they exchanged little conversations in between classes, but she didn’t think she could exactly say that they were on the same level of comfort with her like they were with others like Rochelle or Jackson or Kiyomi._

_However, she hadn’t given Clawdeen any reason to believe she had any other intentions besides trying to meet new people, and if all she wanted was some new companions to talk to, that was fine by Clawdeen._

_“She’s nice,” she said, “A bit quiet and shy. And she gets flustered really easily, but she’s okay. She’s into fashion like me, and she likes to sing._

_“So yeah,” she concluded with a smile, “She’s pretty chill.”_

_Harriet smiled at her, “Well, I’d like to meet her sometime. Figured I should get to see the person up front who’s spoiling my daughter!”_

_Clawdeen giggled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”_

* * *

 

_Over the next couple of months, Gem and the group continued to hang out whenever they could at school as they all started to warm up to her. Clawdeen had started inviting to her join them whenever they went out to places like the movies or the maul, so eventually the fairy had become a reoccurring presence with their friends’ group._

_Of all of them, Gem preferred to stick by her the most. Not that Clawdeen minded, considering the two of them had the most classes together and with her being the one to show Gem around, it seemed only natural that the fairy felt most comfortable around her._

_When it was just the two of them, they tended to spend their time discussing shared interests; the latest issues of Clawsmo and Harper’s Boozaar and if the latest looks were actually flattering or not, how Clawdeen had recently scored “the save of the century” by finding a pair of actual Miu Miu shoes for only thirty dollars, about how Gem’s dad was currently working with some European model who seemed to already think she was the next Battie Paige._

_Clawdeen noticed how Gem seemed to be rather avoidant on personal questions- she’d only talk about her previous experience in San Francisco in passing or give a few vague details about what her dad was like, and when Clawdeen tried to push for elaboration, she’d try and change the subject- but she tried not to pry. She didn’t want to come off as noisy if something bad happened that the fairy didn’t want to remember. She also figured if Gem ever felt comfortable enough telling her, she would._

_“Could I talk to you about something?” the fairy asked one day as they stood by Clawdeen’s locker at the end of the day while the werewolf gathered up her things._

_Clawdeen gave her an inquiring look as she shut the door. “Sure, what is it?”_

_“You said you like to design clothes, right?” Gem questioned, “And how you wanted to open your own shop one day?”_

_“Yeah, what about it?”_

_Gem smirked. She had a look in her eye that spoke of mischief and fun._

_“Well,” she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, “What if I told you I know someone who could probably help you make that happen?”_

_Clawdeen paused. She stared blankly ahead for a moment, not sure if she had heard her quite right._

_She turned to Gem, her eyebrows raised. “What?”_

_Gem twirled a lock of hair around her finger, staring at it like she looking for any split ends._

_“I’ve been talking to an associate of my dad’s,” she explained, “He works in fashion himself- I mean, he’s no Boouis Cruellton, but his stuff has sold in quite a few department stores- and I was telling him about your designs and all that, and well, he said he’d like to see some of them.”_

_Clawdeen nearly dropped her bag in shock._

_“You talked to…a fashion designer…” she stammered, too flabbergasted to put her thoughts together, “…SEE my designs?”_

_Gem chuckled, amused by the completely blown away expression on the werewolf’s face. She nodded._

_“Yeah, and you know what he told me? If him and his associates like them enough, they might consider helping you turn them into an actual line! Like, they’d be willing to negotiate contracts and everything!” she exclaimed._

_She beamed. “Isn’t that great?!”_

_For a moment, Clawdeen was too stunned to respond. She stood there, staring at Gem as her mind processed what she had just been told._

_Gem had spoken to a fashion designer- a REAL fashion designer._

_Said fashion designer wanted to see her designs. HER designs. With other OFFICIAL fashion designers._

_Said designer would want to turn her designs into the real thing if they were good enough._

_Her designs. Becoming the real thing._

_HER designs. The REAL thing._

_There was a sudden rush in her chest; giddiness rushed through her veins like adrenaline. Clawdeen could feel the corners of her mouth pull up so tightly that it almost hurt, and for a few seconds she wasn’t sure she could keep herself from howling everyone’s ears off._

_“Oh. My. Goth,” she finally responded, before she repeated, “O-Oh my goth! Oh my goth ohmygothohmygothohmygothohmygoth!”_

_She started jumping up and down, unable to contain the elation that was spreading all throughout her body; other students shot her looks as they walked by, but she didn’t pay attention to them nor care what they were probably thinking._

_Gem crossed her arms over her chest smugly, a satisfied smile on her face as she watched Clawdeen’s reaction._

_“I’ll take that as a yes,” she joked._

_Clawdeen whipped around to her, her eyes the size of dinner plates._

_“Gem, I…this is…” she said, “This-oh my goth!”_

_She suddenly lunged for the fairy, wrapping her up in a tight hug. Gem squealed, stumbling as the two of them were almost knocked to the floor with the force of Clawdeen’s weight. She glanced out of her peripheral at her in shock, clearly not expecting the sudden action. Her hands hovered out like she didn’t know where to put them, before slowly, she hugged back._

_Clawdeen pulled back, grasping her shoulders as she stared deep into her eyes._

_“You. Are. The Best!” she exclaimed, “Seriously, I don’t know how I could ever thank you!”_

_Gem smiled warmly, the childish joy that practically radiated from the werewolf almost contagious._

_“Hey, you deserve it,” she said, “Someone with so much passion to follow their dreams deserves at least the recognition.”_

_“But…why me though?” Clawdeen suddenly asked, her brow furrowing, “Don’t get me wrong, this is…it’s definitely thoughtful, but why go to the lengths for me? Like, you haven’t known me for that long…”_

_Gem stared at her for a few seconds, as if surprised by the question. Then, she tilted her head and smiled at Clawdeen._

_“Why not?” she countered, “You have the talent, you have the drive. Besides, I like helping people. I have the resources, so why not use them to help people reach their fullest potential in life?”_

_She chuckled, rubbing the back of her head. “I guess you could I say I take after my dad a lot.”_

_Clawdeen brightened at the joke; though she was still over the moon with the proposal- a real fashion designer wanted to look at her designs!- there was a little feeling of guilt that lingered; with everything Gem had done, what with the fabric book and now this, Clawdeen couldn’t help but wonder if she was taking advantage of the fairy’s kindness. She didn’t want to take such a chance if it meant she was using her._

_But with Gem’s nonchalance, she figured that she had nothing to be afraid of. After all, it wasn’t like she was consistently questioning Gem about her dad’s job or inferring the possibility of getting into contact with him, or repeatedly asking her for favors about reaching out to her dad’s friend. If Gem had no problem going out of her way for the littlest things, then there was nothing to be ashamed of with her reaction, right?_

_Feeling her thought process was logical, she brushed the thoughts away and focused back on Gem._

_“You spoil me,” she said playfully._

_Gem shrugged, “Well, I like to spoil my friends.”_

_Gathering up her bag, she tossed it over her shoulder and grabbed Clawdeen’s arm to drag her along as she began to make her way for the doors._

_“Now come on, let’s celebrate,” she said, “I really wanted to check out that little soda shop that’s a few blocks from here.”_

_Clawdeen smiled and caught up to her, the two of them walking arm in arm as they left the school and made their way down to the little shop, both in high spirits and without a care in the world._

* * *

 

_“Holy chiroptera, Deenie, that’s fantastic!” Draculaura squealed over the phone; Clawdeen winced at the painfully high pitch took on, though she smiled at the vampire’s enthusiasm._

_She sat in her room on the bunk, having decided to call the rest of the group and tell them the good news. Laura was the first one she contacted, and the minute she heard, probably even more hysterical than Clawdeen._

_“Okay, Lala, no need to make me go deaf now,” Clawdeen joked. She adjusted her position on the bottom bunk, looking down at her foot to examine the remaining polish on her toes._

_“I can’t help it, I’m just so proud of you!” Laura exclaimed, although her voice did become more calm and collected, “Have you thought of about which sketches you want to show them?”_

_Clawdeen rubbed her chin in thought. She down at where said sketchbook lay in her lap and flipped through a couple of pages, analyzing their contents._

_“I’m still deciding,” she answered, “I’m definitely putting out the ones I’m most proud of, but I’m also wondering if I should toss in a few that I’m a little unsure about with the quality. You know, maybe see if I could get a second opinion on them or something.”_

_Laura said, “You should definitely include that one you did of the powder blue dress. You know, the one with fake pearls glued along the hemline and the tulle for ruffles on the collar?”_

_Clawdeen scoffed, “Well, duh! I’m also considering throwing in that one I showed you of the pencil skirt and blouse that I colored with the gold marker and glitter.”_

_“Oh, definitely!”_

_They continued to chat as Clawdeen flipped through her sketchbook, discussing which ones were to be given to Gem and which ones probably needed some improvement, or which ones were a ‘maybe’._

_“Eeeeee!” Draculaura shrieked with delight, “This is all so exciting! I can’t wait to tell Frankie about this! You’re actually going to get to make your own line, Clawdeen!”_

_“Not exactly, Gem says they’re only going to be looking at my stuff,” Clawdeen corrected, “The chance for a business deal will only come up if they decide any of it’s worth a damn putting the money into.”_

_Draculaura let out a ‘psssh’ sound. “Like anyone would turn down your talent. Anyone with the slightest sense of color coordination could see what a foolish move that would be.”_

_Clawdeen blushed. “Stop, Laura.”_

_“I mean it!” the vampire insisted, “I guarantee the second they lay eyes on your sketchbook, they’ll be-!”_

_She was cut off by the sound of ringing. Clawdeen glanced at the screen to see someone else was trying to call her. Gem’s name ran across the top._

_“Hold on a sec, Lala, Gem’s trying to get in touch with me,” Clawdeen said._

_She heard Laura reply with an ‘okay’ as she switched the lines and placed her phone back up against her ear. “Hello?”_

_“H-Hey, how’s it going?” Gem replied from the other end._

_There was something in her voice Clawdeen couldn’t quite put her finger on._

_“Fine,” she replied, “What’s up?”_

_“My dad and me just got done talking with his designer friend. And he was wondering if it were possible you’d be willing to meet up with him when he sees your sketches?” Gem explained, “He said that he wanted to get to know the face ‘behind the pencil marks’, if that’s alright with you.”_

_Clawdeen paused. “R-Really? When?”_

_“Umm, let me see…” Gem’s voice faded for a moment; Clawdeen could faintly hear her talking with what sounded to be a man on the other end, before she spoke into the phone again, “He says if one-thirty would be okay? Saturday, in the conference room of the Sunset Inn, if that works out for you?”_

_“That soon?” Clawdeen replied, “Seems a little short notice, doesn’t it?”_

_“It’s the only free time he has in his schedule right now,” Gem insisted, “He didn’t want to rush it, but he said he didn’t want to keep you waiting when he was the one who suggested meeting you.”_

_“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s just so soon; I thought I’d have more time to try and practice my pokerface so I don’t end up freaking out right on the spot, ya know?” Clawdeen joked._

_Gem chuckled, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. If you want, my dad and me can come pick you up. Maybe about a quarter to one?”_

_Clawdeen nodded even though she couldn’t see it. “Sounds good,” she confirmed, “I’ll send you my address.”_

_“Actually, just meet us on the corner of Slaughtery Park. That way we can meet halfway,” Gem said._

_“Okay.”_

_There was a noise of satisfaction from the other line and Gem exclaimed, “Great! Well then, see you this weekend, Deenie._

_“And remember,” she added, “You’ll kill it.”_

_“Thanks,” Clawdeen said gratefully, before they finally hung up._

_After picking her conversation with Draculaura back up and finishing their conversation about what she should show, she dropped her phone beside her and lay back against her pillow, staring up at the ceiling as she thought about these recent developments in what was in store for her that weekend. A familiar bubble of exhilaration began to build in her chest, and she beamed as she pulled her sketchbook up and held it tightly against her chest._

_Her grin grew bigger, before she let out an uncharacteristic noise of delight that sounded more like it belonged to Draculaura as she rolled from side to side on her bed._

This is happening, _she thought to herself,_ This is actually happening!

_She couldn’t believe it. She might have had a chance in the industry now. One step closer to achieving the thing she’d wanted since she was a little pup- and when she was still in high school, no less!_

_If everything went perfect and the best-case scenario came out on top, Clawdeen swore the first thing she was going to do was make Gem her very own customized outfit._

_She fell asleep that night with a smile on her face, her last thoughts before succumbing to her dreams lamenting that the week couldn’t go by faster._

* * *

 

_Clawdeen tapped her foot impatiently, glancing to the left for probably had to be the hundredth time. Behind her, she could hear kids screaming and running about in amusement as they played on the park’s jungle gym. Her grip on her handbag tightened as she checked her watch again in nervousness._

_At any moment, Gem and her dad were supposed to be showing up to take her to meet the fashion designer Gem’s dad knew. It was finally the day._

_Where were they, then? Gem had said they’d pick her up at the park, right? It was then minutes past the time she’d told Clawdeen they’d come. What if they ended up late? Would the designer still want to talk to her? What if Clawdeen misheard and they couldn’t find her because she was standing at the wrong place? What if she forgot something? What if she slipped up and made a complete fool of herself-_

_“Okay, calm down, ghoul. You’re getting yourself worked up over nothing,” she scolded herself, “Just take a deep breath and everything will be okay.”_

_Doing as such, Clawdeen closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaling with a sigh. She suddenly saw something white come out of her peripheral and looked to see a slightly banged up pick up coming around the corner._

_It came to a rough stop in front of her. The windows were tinted. The passenger side rolled down and Gem’s bright pink head popped out._

_“Get in loser, we’re going to an interview,” she said jokingly._

_Clawdeen beamed, standing up straight as she walked towards the truck, pulling the back door open and sliding into the seat._

_On the driver’s side sat Gem’s dad, who turned in his seat to grin at Clawdeen. To her surprise, he was an owl cryptid, with molting grey feathers running along the entire lengths of his arms and hard red eyes, sharp canine-like teeth running along the sides of his beak. He held out his hand to her._

_“Well, you must be Clawdeen,” he said with a raspy tone, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the topic of Gem’s ramblings after all this time.”_

_Clawdeen giggled, “You too, Mr. Faefield.”_

_“Call me Striggy,” he insisted._

_As he turned back around and cranked the stick to ‘drive’, Gem turned and gave Clawdeen an apologetic look._

_“Sorry that we’re a bit late, traffic slowed down while we were heading north,” she said, before she reached somewhere down in front and turned back to Clawdeen, holding out a bottle of something orange._

_“Soda?” she offered. Clawdeen took it with a nod._

_“Thanks,” she said, twisting off the cap and taking a drink. The sugar probably wasn’t the best thing for her nerves and the sweet citrusy taste was going to make her teeth ache later, but at least it gave her something to hold to keep her hands from repeatedly clenching and unclenching the spine of her sketchbook._

_The trio settled into silence as Striggy drove through the neighborhood. Clawdeen took the chance to take a glance around the truck’s interior. It was rather worn down as a vehicle, the seat’s upholstery all torn up and the floor covered with had to be almost a layer of dust. The window on her side rattled like it were loose, and there was a giant crack in the windshield stemming from Gem’s side all the way to the middle._

_It was a little odd to see the vehicle in such poor conditions, considering that from the way Gem talked, her father made more than enough money to be able to fix it. Not that Clawdeen was trying to judge, but considering the large dangly diamond earrings in Gem’s ears and the brand new designer purse that sat on her lap, you’d think they’d want to fix up the griminess a little._

_Opting to ignore it, Clawdeen took another drink of her soda and gazed out the window, watching the houses fly by as they drove through the neighborhood._

_Her head lifted when she noticed that Striggy failed to make the turn at the intersection that would put them on the road into town, where the Sunset Inn resided._

_“Um, Striggy, I think you missed the turn,” she pointed out._

_“Oh, we’re going the right way,” Striggy assured, “We’re just takin’ a little shortcut. It’ll get us there faster.”_

_Clawdeen nodded, although she was rather unsure. This way didn’t seem practical at all, constantly weaving in and out of streets in the neighborhood. It seemed almost like they were getting further_ away _from town than going towards it. They still had some time before they needed to be there, but she wanted to be there just so she could be closer to actually getting the meeting done._

_She took another drink and placed the bottle between her knees. She looked through the space between the front seats and noticed a little tassel hanging down from the rearview mirror. It was light blue and was hanging from a pendant that had some sort of inscription on it._

_“What does that little symbol mean-“_

_Before she could finish getting the words out, Clawdeen stopped as she was suddenly overcome with a strange sensation._

_She stared at the floor, her face scrunching up with confusion as she suddenly found it hard to think straight or get her thoughts in order._

_Her head felt fuzzy. Her mouth felt dry, like she had just swallowed a bunch of sand. Clawdeen tried lifting the bottle to take another drink, only to find she was having great trouble even lifting her arm. Her limbs felt like lead._

_Squinting, she tried to lift her head; her vision was starting to fuzzy, all shapes and colors blurring together into one big blob._

_Gem was turned around, staring at her. Striggy was also looking at her, gazing through the rearview mirror._

_“You okay, there?” Striggy asked._

_“I-I don’t know, I…my head, it…I don’t f-feel good,” Clawdeen stammered out, finding great difficulty in stringing her sentences together, “I was fine…I think I…some air…”_

_She tried to reach for the button to roll the window down, but she found she was having trouble just putting her hand forward. Her fingers felt numb._

_Striggy turned; Clawdeen just faintly felt the bottle fall out of her lap. It hit the floor of the truck, carbonated orange liquid spilling everywhere. Clawdeen stared at it, unable to comprehend what had just happened or what was going on._

_Black was starting to creep in from the corners of her sight. Her stomach twisted up. Her head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton. She put a hand to her temple._

_“Gem…I don’t think…feel so good…” she mumbled._

_She glanced up. Gem continued staring at her silently, her expression unreadable. Clawdeen stared back, her mouth falling open as she struggled to form words._

_“G…” she just barely got out._

_The last coherent thing that registered was the feeling of her falling over on her side, before everything suddenly went black._


	4. Chapter 3: Fly In The Spider's Web

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains depictions of rape, physical violence, drugging, and references to kidnapping.

_(Then…)_

_Awareness came back to her slowly._

_Clawdeen squeezed her eyes tighter together, letting out a groan as she was suddenly hit with the worst headache ever. Waves of skull splitting pain came crashing in, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer against her temple. Clawdeen lulled her head from side to side, as if she could shake it off._

_Lifting her head, she struggled to open her eyes, the heavy grogginess that settled upon her making her lids feel like they were weighed down with fifty-pound weights. After fighting to peel her lashes apart from the sand that had crusted them together, she managed to finally pry them open, only to immediately slam them shut against the searing white light that had suddenly invaded her vision._

_Slowly opening them once again, Clawdeen took in her surroundings, her brow furrowing in confusion at the unfamiliar room she was in._

_It looked to be some kind old bedroom; the dim light of the naked bulb on the ceiling flickered like it was about to go out, and the wallpaper was slightly dirty and yellow. There were no visible windows and save for a few scraps of things on the floor, it was bare._

_Clawdeen blinked. Where the hell was she? How did she get here?_

_The last thing she remembered was taking a ride with Gem and her dad when she suddenly had some kind of dizzy spell…_

_There was something hard underneath her. Clawdeen shifted, her legs feeling like putty as she tried to adjust her position. There was a slight ache in her lower abdomen._

_She lifted her hand to feel for whatever was pressing against her-_

_-Only to feel something pull at her wrist._

_Her eyes widened. It was then that she realized her arms were raised above her, and she were unable to move them from that position. Clawdeen looked to each side, her breath catching in her throat as she realized the reason. Something red made her glance down; her pupils shrunk as she finally took in the state of her body._

_“Mmm..mmm…” she whimpered, unable to form words with the shock that came over her._

_Through the veil of lethargy that was throwing her motor kills and thinking out of sorts, Clawdeen made three horrifying realizations as she gained more awareness of her surroundings._

_The first was that she was in someone else’s house- and definitely not someone she knew._

_The second was that her arms were restrained up and behind her head with handcuffs, the other ends of which were clasped tightly around the poles of the metal bed frame she lay on._

_The third, and most gut wrenching, was that she was completely naked._

_Tears came to Clawdeen’s eyes as it all sunk in._

_She was in someone’s house, naked and tied up._

_Someone had taken her into their house and removed her clothes- had TOUCHED her- and handcuffed her to a bed and left her._

_It didn’t take much imagination to think of what situation these factors could only lead to._

_Clawdeen’s head shot up. She glanced around the room, her eyes shooting back and forth desperately as she tried to find a sign of a possible way out, or a sign that someone was around that could hear her._

_“H-H-Hello?” she called out hoarsely. Her throat felt as if she hadn’t drunk water in a thousand years._

_She was met back with silence._

_Panic started to settle in. Her heart began to race, beating against her chest so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest any second. Clawdeen could feel herself begin to shake violently. She gripped the handcuffs tightly, as if she were hanging on for dear life._

_Her head was pounding. She couldn’t think straight. Everything was too bright and too confusing and nonsensical and too fuzzy and too much for her to try and rationalize anything. Looking around the room, she cried out the only thing she could think of in the moment._

_“H-H-Help!” she called, “H-Help! HELP!”_

_She tried pulling against her restraints, but it was like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of her body, and all she could manage was a weak tug before she fell back onto the bed, exhausted. The metal from the cuffs pinched and dug into the skin of her wrists._

_There was the sound of someone talking from outside the room._

_Clawdeen stilled; she looked up at the wall, listening as the heavy footsteps from the other side of the wallpaper came closer to the door. Two voices followed up along them. Clawdeen felt her stomach clench painfully as they stopped right outside the door, before the knob began to jiggle and turn._

_She pressed herself against the bed, heart hammering against her rib cage._

_The door opened._

_“Well, well, good mornin’, Sweet Cheeks! I was wonderin’ when you’d finally come around.”_

_Clawdeen furrowed her brows in a mix of confusion and horror._

_It…it couldn’t be…_

_Striggy grinned down at her, as if amused by her position. There was a man Clawdeen had never seen before standing next to him, a hibagon dressed in work-shirt and slacks. His bright brown eyes lit up at the sight of her handcuffed to the bed; Clawdeen felt her face burn in humiliation. The way his gaze trailed down her exposed form made her skin crawl._

_“W…Wha…” she tried to ask, her voice coming out as little more than a pitiful squeak._

_If Striggy was here, then where was Gem…?_

_“Oh, don’t be afraid, darling. We’re not gonna hurt ya…much,” Striggy answered, smirking at the fear that filled her bright gold eyes._

_He turned to the hibagon, who continued to stare at the she-wolf with eyes full of lust. “I take it she’s to your liking?”_

_“H-How old is she?” the hibagon asked. His fingers started to play with the hem of his shirt._

_“Sixteen? Seventeen, maybe?” Striggy replied, “She’s fresh jailbait, that’s for sure.”_

_Clawdeen whimpered, attempting to pull herself into a sitting position as she pressed her legs tightly together and brought them up to her chest._

_“N-N-No…” she sniffled, “No…”_

_They both looked at her. The Hibagon looked excited; his obvious arousal permeated the air like a horrendous smelling cloud, serving only to increase Clawdeen’s anxiety._

_“A virgin?” he asked Striggy._

_The owl snorted, “If she was, she definitely ain’t anymore. Can’t leave all the customers waiting for the bitch to wake up.”_

_Something in Clawdeen went cold._

_She stared up at him with shock- it took a moment for her to comprehend the meaning behind those words. It was then that she felt the dull twinge of pain in her belly that she had felt as she first awakened; she suddenly felt the urge to vomit as she connected two and two together._

_‘No….’ she thought, barely containing a sob._

_Ignoring the way the werewolf looked to be on the verge of hyperventilating, Striggy clapped his hands together and turned to the Hibagon._

_“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” he said, “Let you get ‘know’ each other a little better.”_

_The hibagon asked, “Do you think you could give her a little something to keep her steady? These wereghouls can be a bit rowdy when they’re in the mood.”_

_“Oh, yeah, sure,” Striggy said, reaching into his pocket, “Here.”_

_Clawdeen shook her head as she saw him pull a needle out of his pocket, along with a vial of some kind of clear fluid._

_“N-No…” she protested, weakly pulling away as Striggy approached the side of the bed, holding the now-filled needle up._

_“Now, come on, don’t fight me,” he said as she attempted to shake off his hand as he roughly grabbed her chin and shoved her head to the side._

_Clawdeen let out a yelp as she felt something prick her neck, before Striggy got off her and backed up. He gave the hibagon a grin._

_“I’ll let you have your fun now,” he said, clapping the latter on the shoulder before he went for the door. As he opened it, he shot Clawdeen one last grin over his shoulder._

_“Do try to enjoy it,” he recommended._

_Clawdeen glared at him. She had the great urge to spit a curse at him but could already feel whatever drugs he had pumped into her taking effect and any words that she wanted to say instantly died in her mouth as the sluggish feeling came back. With that, Striggy left the room, the door slamming shut behind him._

_The hibagon stared at the door, before his gaze turned back to Clawdeen. She stiffened as he caught her eye. The want and lust in his eyes sickened her. The fact that she lay bare before him and she couldn’t cover herself made her want to cry._

_He slowly walked towards her, stopping at the side of the bed. He reached out and ran a hand down her cheek; Clawdeen attempted to turn her head away, only to feel him grab her chin roughly and yank her back towards him._

_She stared up at him, her golden eyes wide with silent pleas for help._

_“Please…”_

_The hibagon didn’t respond. He simply stared at her face, one hand reaching up to brush some hair back from her face, before he released her and stood back from the bed._

_“P-Please, no,” Clawdeen begged as he began to unbutton his shirt, “Please don’t do this. Please, l-let me go.”_

_He ignored her, removing the garment and letting it drop to the floor. Clawdeen looked away as he began to unbuckle his belt, squeezing her eyes shut against the sounds of clinking metal and rustling fabric._

_Her eyes shot open as she felt him touch her knees and spread them apart. Her head whipped forward to see him spreading her legs so they rested against his hips. He was completely naked, save for his socks; Clawdeen had the unfortunate luck of catching a look in between his legs. He was completely erect._

_“Please, n-no,” Clawdeen pleaded, “Please, please, no! No!”_

_The hibagon crawled on top of her. The feeling of his bare skin against her body made her stomach flip. He hovered over her, his gaze hungry. He smiled at her._

_Clawdeen whimpered, “Please stop.”_

_“You’re pretty when you cry,” was all he said._

_He reached in between them, grabbing himself and adjusting his position._

_“No, no, no!” Clawdeen shook her head, unable to do much else as the drugs made her limbs heavy and useless, “Please don’t do this!_

_“Please stop! Stop! STOP!”_

_He pushed his hips forward-_

_“AH!”_

_Clawdeen snapped her head back with a scream as something foreign and hard penetrated her vagina, forcing its way past her walls and painfully stretching her._

_“STOP! STOP!” Clawdeen shouted, “PLEASE STOP! NO! STOP!”_

_The hibagon didn’t listen; he pushed his lower half further forward until he was fully inside her. It was a disgusting, horrible sensation._

_Letting out a moan, he screwed his eyes shut as he held himself aloft with his elbows, savoring in the pleasure that rushed through his body. Then, he began to steadily rock his hips, quickly building up a rhythm as he thrusted in and out of the young teen that was restrained under him._

_Clawdeen sobbed; never had she felt so utterly helpless, unable to even try and defend herself as she was violated. It hurt, his quick rough movements and lack of any preparation sending stinging akin to pins and needles through her genitals. She gritted her teeth against the pain, yelling out as several rough thrusts felt like she was getting torn open._

_“Get off me, get off me,” she wailed, “Ow, ow, ow…!”_

_The hibagon leaned down and swept her up in a rough kiss. Clawdeen shook her head, trying to shake him off, only for him to grab her by the sides and hold her in place while he forced his tongue into her mouth. Clawdeen gagged; his breath tasted heavily of cigarette smoke and hard whiskey and some gross spicy food._

_His hands slipped down the front and began roughly kneading her breasts, his grip hard enough to bruise. He grabbed the bottom of her thigh and forced her leg up to allow him to get in deeper. A sickening slapping noise filled the stuffy, hot room._

_“Ghhh,” he grunted, “G-God, shit…”_

_His movements became more erratic. He pushed against Clawdeen harder, rocking her harder against the bed. The thin frame squeaked under them as he moved faster. His face went red, the skin of his neck tight with the veins bulging, like he was having a heart attack._

_“Shit, fuck….”_

_He rocked his hips faster._

_Suddenly, his face pinched tightly as his eyes squeezed shut. His mouth fell open with a low-pitched moan._

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened as she felt him the hard flesh inside her pulse, before her cavity was suddenly filled with the sensation of something liquid and warm._

_Her eyes filled with a fresh batch of tears; it didn’t take much imagination for her to know what it was._

_The hibagon tensed against her, before he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard against her shoulder. For a moment, they just lay there, Clawdeen’s small sobs the only noise in the room._

_Finally, he lifted himself up on his elbows and rolled off her, sliding off the bed and standing up. Clawdeen instantly curled away from him, curling up on her side into a ball despite the discomfort it brought her arms. She sobbed heavily, tears dripping down her nose and onto the stained pillows._

_She felt disgusting. Filthy. She wanted to just tear off her skin, get rid of the feeling of him all over her body that tainted her. The feeling of body fluids spilling out of her onto the sheets made her want to scrub herself raw._

_The hibagon paid her no mind as he picked his clothes up and redressed. As he finished lacing up his shoes, he stood up and shot her a look over his shoulder. She had her back to him, her shoulders shaking as she cried._

_He turned and approached the bed, standing over it for a few seconds as he watched her weep. Then, he leaned over and whispered into her ear._

_“Seems you can’t enough of my cock,” he said in a low voice, “I’ll make sure I’ll come back eventually.”_

_He left without another word, leaving the werewolf alone._

_Clawdeen bawled, overwhelmed by it all. Everything had occurred so quickly and hit her at once. There was so much to grasp, and yet nothing made sense…_

_She broke off her whimpers with a cough. Something tightened in her chest painfully; Clawdeen realized she was starting to hyperventilate. A panic attack was coming on._

_She threw herself onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The flickering fluorescent bulb hurt her eyes, but she didn’t concentrate on it long as her gaze darted around the ceiling. She rolled back and forth with renewed desperation of getting her hands free, despite the pain it brought her hands. She kicked at the sheets._

_“HELP!” she screamed as she thrashed around, “SOMEBODY HELP! GEM! ANYBODY! HELP!”_

_The bedframe shook and creaked from her violent movements, but the handcuffs wouldn’t budge from their place. Clawdeen grabbed onto the shackles and shook them, growling in both frustration and dread as they just banged against the rungs._

_“HELP!” she screamed out again, her shoulders bouncing as she sobbed, “Somebody, help me…”_

* * *

 

_(Now…)_

Clawdeen and the other girls stood in a line, standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced the men came bustling in through the doors. She could see at the front that the neon sign in the windows was switched to ‘CLOSED’, with the lights that hung over the pool tables and booths in the front switched off and the blinds drawn over every window to show that operations were done for the night.

It also meant that more secretive, _private_ parties were now on for those who could afford the hefty entrance fee.

Wringing her hands, Clawdeen took a deep breath and looked around on the wall in front of her, trying to ignore the way she could feel them all staring at her. She tried her best to avoid making any eye contact, not wanting to have to see the way they’d look like they wanted to just eat her up.

She instead looked down and tugged at a loose thread in her tights. It was part of an outfit that before, she wouldn’t have been caught undead in: the hot pink fishnets were an absolute eyesore, almost glowing in the dim neon blue lights of the bar, and the ripped denim shorts could barely be called legwear; with the way they rode up high on her upper thighs -she abhorred the way she could feel them exposing her ass- they might’ve as well been a second pair of underwear. The metallic purple top she’d been forced into was too small, but according to Aran, it made her bust size look at least two cups bigger (“It gives you porn star tits” was the way he put it). The gaudy rhinestone covered platforms gave her some extra height, even though they pinched her toes and rubbed the backs of her heels raw.

Clawdeen thought she looked like someone who’d just walked off the set of Jerry Screamer. It was humiliating.

She glanced up to look at the others out of her peripheral. Starla stood next to her, wearing a scowl on her face as she kept her hands stuffed into the shallow pockets of her shorts. Kimber and Ruby stood on her other side; even after a month, there was still a slightly dark circle around Kimber’s left eye.

Shelby, Clarissa, and Vixen stood on her other side. Vixen rubbed her arms repeatedly as she looked out at the patrons uneasily. Clarissa had the opposite expression, a curious smile on her face as she swung her arms from side to side, as if she were waiting for the fun to start. Shelby stared blankly ahead, arms at her side.

It’d been a while since Clawdeen had been at one of these things, and even longer at one with so many people. The last major thing had been just a gathering of some of the pimps’ from the other town, with some of them having their pick of who’d he want to try out to possibly buy.

She wondered if some of the guests had whores of their own back where they lived. From the looks of them, this definitely wasn’t the first time any of them had been to a “private” showing. Probably not even the second or third time for most of them. It was mostly men, but there were quite a few women in attendance.

Clawdeen withheld a snort as she caught sight of some of their dresses. _They’re dressed even sluttier than me, and I’m the one who’s supposed to be getting fucked tonight,_ she thought crudely.

“Straighten up,” Aran suddenly whispered in her ear, “You look a bratty kid pouting.”

She fixed her posture immediately. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Get it together,” he hissed, “I have a lot of money riding on this, so don’t you fuck this up now.”

A spike of fear went up her spine. Clawdeen could feel her palms begin to seat. “Y-Yes, sir. I-I’m sorry, sir.”

She refused to look back, the thought of even looking Aran in the eye at the moment enough to make her seize up in terror. She stood with her shoulders hitched up, only allowing them to drop with a deep breath when the scent of his cologne became faint.

There was a small squeeze against her palm. Clawdeen spared a glance out of her peripheral to see Vixen returning the look, the chupacabra’s pinkish-red eyes silently communicating with her. she shook her head: _Don’t let him get to you._

Clawdeen nodded. _Thank you,_ she mouthed.

Vixen smiled softly, though she shook her head to turn down the comment.

They both turned back to the crowd. The bar owner was now closing the back door- their makeshift “entrance” for the night- as the last few patrons filed in. The small crowd wasn’t much, probably only about fifteen or so in attendance, but the way they looked all looked at the girls and Clawdeen bristle in disgust. She felt like peeling her skin off just from the way the guys trailed down her body, lingering at what could only be on her bust and hips.

She hated them. She hated their cocky grins and their macho attitudes. She hated the way their wives looked curious, like this was all just some sort of fun experiment. She hated feeling and being treated like a sex toy. But even more she hated the knowledge that she was powerless to do anything about it. 

She sighed.  _Well, no use getting worked up about it,_ she thought. 

All she could do was smile and flirt, and hope that she'd meet her quota soon enough that it'd all be over quickly. 

* * *

 

_“Stop,” Clawdeen cried weakly, staring up at the ceiling as she weakly tried to fight off the golem above her, “Stop, stop!”_

_It was rather futile, but still she struggled against her restraints as he rutted against her, his heavy stone body scraping her skin. She winced as he jammed his hips against her hard, sending shooting pains into her lower abdomen._

_She sobbed, “Please, stop…”_

_Everything started to go blurry. The pounding sensation in her head returned, barely concealed by the light-headed feeling that made it hard to think clearly. She cried harder, having familiarized the experience as a sign she was going to pass out again._

_She had lost count of how many times it happened. All she knew was that in the instances of consciousness she had, she was subjected to some new face raping her against the bed, fucking her insides raw and rubbing their hands over her body. Sometimes she awoke just before the next guy came in, other times she came to with the unfortunate site of some different guy atop her._

_How much time had passed? Hours? Days? Weeks, possibly?_

_“Sto-o-op,” she whined to the golem, “S-Stop, stop…”_

_The golem didn’t pay attention. He grunted and groaned, his tongue lolling out as he continued his ministrations. His hands went to her hips and he pressed her tightly to him, rocking her waist back and forth._

_The pain in her head became greater. Edges of black started creeping into her vision._

_As she faded away, Clawdeen silently prayed for someone or something to make it all stop._

_Even if that meant just killing her…_

* * *

 

“Well, well, folks, looks like we’re all up for a good time, aren’t we?!” Grady asked as he came up to the front to address the crowd, standing in front of the girls.

The small crowd yelled out excitedly; there were even a few claps. Grady nodded, enjoying the feedback.

“That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now, I know you’re all ready to get with one of our fine-ass ladies here, but obviously there’s more of you than there are of them, so before we let you have your fun, we’ll have to go over some ground rules…”

The guests nodded in understanding, some of them doing so eagerly, almost like that of children. They all looked behind Grady to stare at the girls. Clawdeen shifted on her feet, feeling small under the intense glares. She could sense the others were feeling the same. 

Most of them had the typical face of arousal, but for some there was something darker in their eyes. Like there was something more sinister they wanted to do than just sex.

Unconsciously, Clawdeen grabbed her arm, the tips of her fingers feeling the raised, faded circles dotted her skin. She felt a shiver run through her as she thought back to how she got them.

She had the unfortunate experience of learning first hand just how dark some of the ‘customers’ could get when they had the chance…when they got to be all alone with a pretty, young, trapped girl…

* * *

 " _Damn, he sure knows how to catch the pretty ones,” the sea monster joked as he pulled off his shirt._

_Clawdeen said nothing; she looked away from him, staring blankly at the wall as tears silently streamed down her cheeks._

_She had since given up trying to persuade the many strange faces that had their way with her to help her or stop; not that she physically could, anyway- her voice had long since gone hoarse and given out a while ago._

_She couldn’t remember a time that she had felt so disgusting. Or worn out. She could feel blood and body fluids drying on the fur on her legs and stomach, and the stench of urine was so revoltingly strong- Clawdeen couldn’t tell if it was her own or someone else’s who probably did it while she was passed out (the thought of which nauseated her)- that had she had anything left in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up._

_Her hair was greasy, and she could feel dried snot caking around her nostrils. Her lips were dried and chapped. The only sense of time she now had was the fact that she now felt unbearably hungry; her belly cramped painfully, the pangs so strong that it felt someone was stomping on her abdomen. Her head hurt and her calf muscles spasmed with severe pains from what could’ve only been dehydration. Clawdeen could feel herself start to grow delirious from the lack of nutrition and water. Her wrists ached and were now rubbed raw and bloody from the metal of the cuffs._

_Sometimes she wondered if she was already dead. She certainly_ felt _like it…_

_She heard the sea monster’s belt clink as he unbuckled it, before it was followed with the ripping of the zipper of his fly. Her lip trembled, and she closed her eyes as she felt the bed dip from his weight, praying that it would be quick._

_To her surprise, however, she felt sudden weight settle on her chest, the feeling of the sea monster’s knees on either side right under her armpits. Clawdeen opened her eyes, only to instantly regret it as she looked to see the sea monster was straddling her, his stiff erection right in her face._

_“Oh, come on baby, don’t be difficult,” he murmured as the werewolf shut her eyes and turned away again, pressing her lips tightly together, “Don’t you want to make Daddy feel good?”_

_Clawdeen tried to lean her head away, only for him to grab a fistful of her hair and pulled her back. She grimaced as she felt the tip of his penis rub up against her cheek; she clenched her jaw hard enough that the muscles in her cheeks ached, refusing to let anything past it._

_The sea monster grabbed her chin and kept her facing forward, before he grabbed himself with his other chin and directed the tip to her mouth, trying to force it past her lips._

_“Mmmm-mmmm, mmm-mmm!” Clawdeen whined in protest, shaking her head in refusal._

_“Come on,” the sea monster growled, “Don’t be stubborn.”_

_He pressed it harder, but Clawdeen refused to budge. Rolling his eyes, the sea monster let go of her hair._

_Instead, he reached down and pinched her nose, positioning his fingers in a way so that he pressed her nostrils shut._

_Clawdeen squirmed as she was forced to hold her breath. She sucked in her lips, glaring up at the sea monster defiantly as her eyes watered against the tightness in her chest that was already starting to creep in with the lack of oxygen. The older cryptid just stared back, raising an eyebrow as he waited._

_Letting out a muffled cry of frustration, Clawdeen pounded her heels against the mattress as she tried to fight the suffocating feeling in her throat._

_She couldn’t open her mouth. She wouldn’t._

_Unfortunately, her already weakened body lacked the strength to carry through with her determination. Chest and throat burning, she finally parted her lips with a gasp as she took a desperate gulp of air-_

_Only to have her airway cut off again as the sea monster immediately shoved his cock all the way into her mouth._

_Clawdeen gagged; the taste was absolutely horrid, and the feeling of him almost at the back of her throat made her feel like she was choking. The sea monster grabbed her head and held her still._

_“Hey, hey, no fuss,” he commanded, “Just lay back and let Daddy have his fun.”_

_He started to move his hips, rapidly thrusting in and out of her mouth. Clawdeen let out a strangled cry at the action, unable to breath and forced to feel him along her tongue as he pleasured himself. She struggled against her restraints, panic arising in her as she thought she was seriously going to get smothered._

_“Yeah, that’s it, good ghoul,” he whispered huskily, leaning his head back and closing his eyes with a sigh of content, “Awww, fuck, yeah. Shit, your mouth feels good. Just like that- OW!”_

_He backed up on the bed, shooting Clawdeen a furious glare before he cocked his hand back and gave her a hard slap. “Bitch!”_

_Clawdeen’s head snapped to the side; her head spun with the force of the hit, while her cheek lit up with the sting. It took a moment for her to register what exactly what had happened, though she was crudely brought to reality by the feeling of the sea monster roughly grabbing her hips and yanking her further down on the bed, before he flipped her over on her stomach._

_“So you want to be rough, huh?” he spat at her as she heard him remove his clothes, “Well, fine. I’ll be rough.”_

_“P-Please, don’t,” Clawdeen whimpered, “I-I didn’t mean it.”_

_“Sure you didn’t,” he said, climbing on top of her, “I was going to be gentle, but you bitches wouldn’t know mercy if it came right on your face.”_

_He spit in his hand. Clawdeen felt him grab one of her butt cheeks, before she felt him shove his way into her rear hole._

_Clawdeen screamed as white hot fire erupted from her backside. The rough friction, forced stretching, and the poor attempt at lubrication sent agonizing waves of pain through her body; she could literally feel her muscles being torn and ripped, the smell of copper hitting her nose as blood poured down her thighs and onto the sheets._

_“Yeah, you bleedin’? You bleedin’ now, bitch?” the sea monster hissed, “Yeah, fucking scream. Fuckin’ whore, cunt, fuck!”_

_He grabbed her hair and yanked back, jerking her head back at such an angle Clawdeen felt her neck would snap at any moment. She gritted her teeth as she felt it pull at the roots._

_It burned inside as he finished._

_Breathing heavily, the sea monster shoved her face back into the pillows as he pushed himself off her. Clawdeen sniffled, rolling onto her back again; she pressed her thighs together, wincing as any movement of her legs made her backside sting._

_The sea monster sat on the edge of the bed as he pulled on his jeans. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, which he held between his lips as he fished out a lighter from his back pocket and lit it._

_He took a drag, sitting in silence for a few seconds as he let the smoke blow out. A small tail gently burned as it trailed down the paper towards the butt before it diffused into the air. Suddenly, he took it out. He stared at the lit end, as if contemplating something._

_He then gave a look to Clawdeen over his shoulder._

_She stiffened, something in his eyes making her cold and anxious._

_The sea monster stood up, still holding the cigarette in his hand. He had a grin on his face, like something funny were about to happen._

_It never broke as he suddenly reached forward and pressed the lit end into the flesh of her collarbone._

_Clawdeen reared her head back with a vicious howl; her skin prickled with goosebumps as it felt like every nerve in her body had suddenly been electrified. Her arms and legs tensed. Her ears hurt with the pitch she reached with her own voice. She thrashed against the pain, only for the sea monster to press the cigarette harder against her skin._

_Finally, he pulled his arm back. He stared down at the small circle that now stood out on the she-wolf’s skin. It was perfectly round, with the skin red and blistering. The fur around it was singed._

_“Ah!” Clawdeen wailed out, a fresh batch of tears falling down her cheeks as she stared at the burn. It hurt tremendously and she shook violently with pain._

_“There, now you’re marked,” the sea monster said mockingly, flicking the cigarette butt at her, “A little reminder for you to watch yourself._

_“Know your place, you useless slut,” he said, before he grabbed his shirt and walked out._

* * *

 

The patrons started going down the lines as they took their pick of the litter.

The first, a werewolf, leveled his gaze at each one of them as he slowly passed them.

“Well, well, you again,” he commented as he looked at Shelby, “You still got an attitude?”

Shelby smirked and stood up straighter, holding her chin up in an act of pretend defiance.

“Play with me and you’ll find out,” she said with a smile. The werewolf’s eyes lit up at the comment, before they slowly trailed down her body. Clawdeen rolled her eyes at the way Shelby wiggled her hips to further try and convince him to go with her.

However, the sea monster had no such luck, as the werewolf just smiled and gave her a nod, before he moved on to Clarissa.

“You’re lookin’ real pretty tonight, Rissy,” he just said as he clasped her shoulders, before walking away. Clarissa smiled at the comment, though it quickly dropped into a pout at being turned down.

Vixen kept her gaze to the ground as he stopped in front of her. The werewolf looked down, analyzing her for a minute. He reached out and tilted her chin up, making her look at him. Vixen stared emotionlessly.

The werewolf shrugged and brushed her off, before he finally stopped in front of Clawdeen.

Clawdeen smiled at him, catching the way that his eyes darkened as they landed upon her figure. She brushed her hair back and pretended like she was going to pull the strap of her top down in a teasing manner.

“Well, what do we have here?” he asked, ogling her up and down, “And who just might you be?”

“Selena,” Clawdeen answered in a playful tone, twirling her hair.

He chuckled, “Fitting. I can’t remember the last time I had a were-girl.”

 Taking a step closer to her, he leaned in until their chests were almost touching. Clawdeen looked up at him; he gave her a grin, his dark brown eyes sparkling with lust.

“In fact, how about a little sneak peek? Just so I know I’m getting my money’s worth?” he suggested, one of his fingers hooking in to the waistband of her shorts and tugging.

That was one of the very last things Clawdeen wanted to do, especially with so many people around to see her exposed. But with his expectant gaze on her and her catching sight over the werewolf’s shoulder of Aran watching her from the corner, the feeling of his glare almost searing, there was little she could do if she didn’t want to start a scene. And she wasn’t exactly up for getting an ass beating at the end of the night.

Smirking, she tilted her head. “Just a sneak peek?” she asked playfully as she held the top of her shorts between her thumbs and forefingers.

The werewolf’s smirk deepened. He reached into her shorts and dug his forefinger just under the hemline of her panties, before pulling them back so he could now get a glimpse of the lower parts of her anatomy.

Clawdeen looked away, trying not to think of how humiliated she felt. No doubt other patrons were staring and probably thinking if they could get a look themselves.

The werewolf sucked in a breath. She could hear him mutter, “Oooh, a shiny little ring for me.” Clawdeen felt her face grow hot, knowing he had caught sight of her piercing.

He glanced up at her eagerly. “I think I might’ve found my catch of the night.”

“I could show you more treasure if you pick me, Daddy,” Clawdeen said, brushing her hand down his chest for extra flirtation effort.

She could smell his scent instantly become stronger as his arousal flared up. The werewolf grinned widely like someone who’d just won the lottery. She watched as he turned to look at his friends.

“I like this one!” he exclaimed, turning back to her with a nod. He cupped her face in both his hands.

“Guess I’ll have to take you up on that offer,” he said as he leaned in to kiss her. Clawdeen responded back, though she furrowed her brows as he forced way too much tongue into the action; his breath wasn’t all too pleasant either.

Pulling back, the werewolf took her hand and turned to guide them both to the back room. Clawdeen struggled to keep up with him, her heels making her stumble as they clacked against the tile floor.

Aran was leaning up against the wall near the back room, his head down and arms crossed as he waited out the event. As they passed, Clawdeen heard him call out, “Have a nice time.”

“Oh, we will!” the werewolf replied excitedly as he shoved the door open, pulling the obviously younger she-wolf through the doorway into the cold space of the kitchen.

Against her senses, Clawdeen spared a glance over her shoulder. Aran gave her a smug grin as he caught her eye, his head bowed.

“She’s a real peach when you know where to touch,” he added.

Swallowing hard, Clawdeen forced herself to look away; she blinked away the tears in her eyes at his implication, forcing herself not to dwell on those memories. Instead, she looked forward and complied wordlessly as the werewolf spun around to push her up against the wall, lifting her up and placing her up on the ledge of a steel table.

 _Another night, another dollar,_ she reminded herself as he began pulling at her clothes before she assisted him.

She stared up at the wall as he pushed her down so she lay against the table and swiftly entered her, letting herself become numb to everything as he did as he pleased with her body.

* * *

 

_She could barely keep her eyes open anymore. Not that it was any use; what was the point, when she’d only look and see she was still stuck in the same hell she’d been in for…god, who knew how long it’d been now?_

_Clawdeen blinked, delusional. Her thoughts were starting to become incoherent, and everything in her sight was blurring together. She could only faintly feel the guy raping her, the harsh burning between her legs now reduced to a dull ache. Her body ached as he grabbed at her hips and legs, his grip bruising. Clawdeen felt disgust come over her as she could feel the wetness of his tongue on her chest._

_“Ah!” she cried out in pain as he suddenly bit her, his teeth sinking in to the tender flesh of her breast. He did right around her areola area, sending needle-like sensations right down to her spine._

_Her breast throbbed; blood pooled around the small puncture wounds. It was just one of many new wounds that marred her body. Blood trickled from the dozens of small cuts that trailed her thighs and hips, where their claws and nails broke the skin. It seemed some had been inspired by the sea monster who had burned her earlier, and now numerous burns decorated Clawdeen’s arms and collarbone, sending agonizing waves of pain through her being from where they bled and blistered._

_“Stop, no,” she pled in a small voice as the monster grinned and lapped at her breast mockingly, smearing her blood over the area._

_After he had finished and left, Clawdeen stared up at the ceiling, silently crying as tears ran down the sides of her head._

_Did her family know she was gone? Was there anyone out looking for her? Did anyone even care?_

_There was the sound of feet pounding on the floor outside. A second later, the door swung open, and Striggy strolled in. He held a camera in his hand._

_“Hey, there, Deenie,” he said casually, as if she were just a house guest waking up from a nap, “How’s it going? Some of the guys managed to make you squirt yet?”_

_Clawdeen glared at him but said nothing. Striggy shrugged, brushing off the lack of reaction. He lugged something from behind his back and set it on the dusty table by the wall; it was a bucket of water and a rag._

_“Anyways,” he continued, “While I’m glad to hear you seem to be adjusting to your new environment, maintenance needs to be kept up regularly. And no offense, kiddo, but you really are starting to stink. And we can’t be letting that scare away the customers.”_

_He smirked at her, “Though something tells me you’re into that kind of stuff.”_

_“You’re a-a….sick f-f-fuck,” Clawdeen spat out._

_“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice, darlin,” he said cheekily, “Anyways, we need to get you cleaned up. And hey, if you’re a good ghoul and don’t put up a fuss, maybe we could get some food in your belly. Sound good?”_

_Clawdeen didn’t respond; she only continued to give him a dirty look._

_She didn’t want him anywhere near her- she was so tired of being fucking touched and prodded like she was everyone’s plaything. Her own scent was enough to make her gag by this point, but she’d be damned if she was just going to lay by and let him touch her in her most vulnerable areas on the prospect of being ‘clean’._

_However, at the same time, the mention of food made her perk up. Clawdeen tried telling herself that there was a good chance Striggy was lying, that he was just saying that to bait her so he could get her in another position he wanted, but even with the consideration, she was having trouble outright refusing._

_Her stomach rumbled at the thought. It’d felt like it’d been so long since she had food. And she was so hungry…_

_The apprehension at being cleaned must’ve been on her face, because she was broken out of her thoughts at the little chuckle Striggy gave off._

_“Don’t worry, I won’t be the one touching you,” he said, nodding his head towards the door, “SHE will.”_

_It was then that Clawdeen noticed that the door was ajar; she realized there was another scent in the room, one that was strikingly familiar. She’d been so distracted and overcome with the stench of herself that it’d been almost hidden from her nostrils._

_Wait a minute…she knew this scent from somewhere…_

_As if on cue, the person suddenly came out from behind the door and shut it. She leaned against the door sullenly, her hands gripping the knob tight._

_Clawdeen’s pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks. Her mouth fell open in shock. For a moment, all the deliriousness she’d been feeling was taken away and replaced with confusion and horror._

_“G-G-Gem?” she uttered._

_Gem wouldn’t look at her. Instead, she kept her head hung and stared at the ground, her hair falling to form a pink curtain over her face._

_Clawdeen stared at her; questions ran through her mind. Through the torment, she’d been worried about Gem and if she had befallen a similar fate to her, or if she had been kept in the dark to her father’s monstrous activities. To have her right here in what looked to be in good health, without any reaction as to seeing her friend’s current position…_

_“W-W-Wha…” she tried to ask._

_Striggy commented, “Nice surprise, ain’t it? This will give you two some time to catch up.”_

_He picked up the rag and dunked in the water, wringing the excess out before he turned to Gem and held it out to her._

_“Clean her up,” he commanded._

_“Yes, sir,” Gem finally said, her voice small._

_Her movements were almost mechanical as she took the cloth from him and turned to walk to Clawdeen, kneeling down besides the bed and reaching to touch her face with it._

_Clawdeen stared at her as she began to wipe her face, stunned. What was Gem doing? Why was she just going along with this?_

_Why didn’t she even seem to be surprised that Clawdeen was lying naked and raped on this bed in this dank room?_

_“W-W-What’re you…doing?” she finally questioned, “G-G-Gem, h-help me-“_

_“Just shut up and let me do this,” Gem interrupted, still not looking at her, “It will make it easier for both of us.”_

_“Gem…”_

_Striggy snorted, bringing her attention to him. “What, you think she’s actually going to help you? Who’d you think is the reason you’re here in the first place?”_

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened._

_A flux of memories suddenly raced through her mind- her and Gem meeting, all the little gifts she was given in the last few months, being told of the agent, getting a ride from them- and with them, something painful and icy landed in her chest, like she had just been stabbed with a dagger of ice._

_She looked at Gem with newfound horror._

_“You…you set me up…everything was just…just a front…” she said._

_Gem didn’t respond._

_“Yep, and you played right into it beautifully!” Striggy confirmed, “Everything went right according to plan! I admit, I was a bit worried that you were a little too smart for your own good, but my girl here knows just what to say to suck people right in!”_

_He put a hand on Gem’s shoulder like he was proud. She seized up at the touch, her movements rigid as she began to wipe down Clawdeen’s clavicle._

_‘That’s why she never told much about her homelife’, Clawdeen realized, ‘It was all bullshit. From the very beginning.’_

_As it all clicked, tears came to her eyes as a heavy weight settled upon her. She realized what it was; the horrible feeling of complete and utter betrayal._

_“I…you…you were my friend,” she said thickly._

_Gem finally glanced up at her as she stopped wiping. There wasn’t an ounce of friendliness that Clawdeen could find in the fairy’s familiar dark blue gaze. Instead, now, there was only coldness and exhaustion, as well as something unreadable that Clawdeen couldn’t quite put her finger on._

_The strained silence was broken by the harsh sound of laughter from Striggy. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head like it was the most ridiculous statement he’d ever heard._

_“’Friends?’ Oh, sweetheart, if you want friends, you’ve been in looking in the wrong place!” he laughed, “This bitch would sell her own mother down the river if it meant saving her own ass. She only did it cuz I told her to.”_

_He stroked Gem’s hair and cheek, looking down at her with a fake proud expression. Gem’s hands clenched in the rag and sheets as he did so; Clawdeen could see her knuckles turn white with the force of her grip._

_“She’s a good girl, she listens to her Daddy,” he said, “Bought her all the way back in Philly. She’s been my number one ever since. So when I told her we needed a new girl, something to get business off the ground again, she was able to swoop in and get you right in her hold!”_

_Devastation ripped through Clawdeen’s chest. She closed her mouth as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Her jaw clenched as she stared at Striggy, her eyes blazing with a combination of sorrow and hatred. Striggy didn’t seem fazed at all by it._

_“Well, I’d love to stay and chat some more, but I have errands to run,” he said, “You ladies try not to cause too much ruckus.”_

_He leaned in closely to Gem, murmuring lowly in her ear, “Don’t get any ideas.”_

_“I won’t, sir,” Gem responded._

_Nodding in approval, Striggy turned and headed out the door, leaving the two girls alone in the room as they heard his footsteps become fainter from outside. Gem’s eyes slid to the corner and she watched the door out of her peripheral, as if waiting to see if he was about to come back in, before she stood up and walked over to the bucket._

_“Gem, please, y-you have to help me,” Clawdeen said, “Y-You have to get me out of here! Please, w-whatever he’s said he’ll do, whatever threats he’s made, w-we can get help! T-There’s no way they won’t believe us! P-Please, Gem, just-“_

_“Can you stop calling me that?” Gem asked, turning around, “My-my name isn’t actually Gem, okay?”_

_Clawdeen gawked at her. How…how could she be so calm?_

_How could she just act like nothing had happened? How could she act like she didn’t just reveal everything she had told Clawdeen was a lie?_

_“Why…” was all she could think of to say as Gem turned to clean her legs._

_Gem looked up at her, her eyes half-hidden by her messy bangs._

_“It’s nothing personal,” she admitted, “You were just the best looking one out of all of them.”_

_Out of all of…_

_A pit opened in Clawdeen’s stomach when she realized who ‘them’ was. If not her, they would’ve gone for any one of her friends. It could’ve been any one of them in this position- Frankie, Lala, Lagoona- Clawdeen’s hackles raised at the thought._

_Did this fairy have no sorrow? No remorse at all? Did she even see the depth of what she had done?_

_Sudden rage bloomed inside her. Clawdeen furrowed her brow as she glared at Gem, a low growl rumbling in her throat as she clenched her teeth. She gripped the handcuffs around her wrists, the tips of her claws lightly scratching the metal. She couldn’t tell who she was madder at, though: Gem for being the one to put her in this position, or herself for being naïve enough to fall for everything._

_Gem, paying no mind to the werewolf’s sudden tense position, finished wiping her legs down and turned to start wiping down Clawdeen’s midriff._

_“How…how could you?” Clawdeen asked._

_Gem didn’t answer. She just finished bathing the werewolf, wiping away the dried fluid matted her fur; Clawdeen whimpered as she ran the towel along the cuts and burns, which brought a fresh wave of stinging pain._

_After she was done, Gem got up from the bed and walked to the bucket. She dumped the towel in and lifted it off the table, before turning to make her way towards the door. Clawdeen watched as she reached for the handle and opened the door; however, she paused in making her way out, and to Clawdeen’s surprise, she looked back at her._

_“It really is nothing personal,” she repeated, “That’s just how business works sometimes, kid.”_

_Sighing, she began to walk out. “I’ll bring you some food in a little bit.”_

_“Fuck you,” Clawdeen spat._

_Gem said nothing to that. She just walked out and closed the door behind her._

_Once again left alone in her prison, Clawdeen sobbed quietly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the big delay, besides school stressing me tf out and stripping me of my free time, this chapter turned out a lot longer than I initially planned it to be.


	5. Chapter 4: Far From Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings from last chapter still apply.

( _Now...)_

“Ah, yeah, you like that? You like it when I hit it like that? Yeah, fuck yeah, baby, you’re so hot, god…“

Clawdeen grimaced; she kept her gaze glued to the wall in front of her, trying to ignore the uncomfortable pressure against her knees from the floor. The customer had wanted on her hands and knees, and her wrists and back were starting to ache from the position. He’d been insistent they do it on the floor, though, so she simply smiled and stripped like a good girl.

The sasquatch hissed from behind her, his grip on her hips tightening as he felt his orgasm coming to him. His hairy body was soaked with sweat, a fine sheen shining on his chest. He pressed Clawdeen’s ass against his waist as he screwed his eyes shut and a groan escaped him.

Clawdeen listened to him as he rocked her against him; her breath hitched as she suddenly felt heat flare up in her lower regions. A tightening sensation accompanied it, and she bit her lip as she felt her arousal build.

“ _Ah,”_ she moaned, “ _Ah, ah-“_

“ _Oh god,”_ the sasquatch hissed, before he threw his head back with a choked gasp and came.

A sudden burst of heat rushed to Clawdeen’s loins; she snapped her head down with a cry as she climaxed herself. Unconsciously, she thrusted back against the sasquatch, the friction of him against her sensitive flesh delicious.

They pressed their bodies tightly together as they rode out the waves of their pleasure. As she came back down from her temporary high, Clawdeen felt herself pushed down so that her upper half lay against the carpet as the sasquatch leaned his full weight on her; his hot breath was moist on the skin of her neck as he panted.

“That was…” he said a few seconds later, still catching his breath, “That was amazing…”

Clawdeen rolled her eyes. _For you, probably,_ she thought.

A few minutes later, after a quick rinse, she sat on the bed to redress as the sasquatch whistled in the shower. She pulled her arms through the sleeves of her dress and behind to zip up the back, before leaning over to pull on her heels; she grimaced when she felt a small flare of pain in her back, which still ached slightly from her prolonged hunched over position. She shot a look to the direction of the bathroom, mentally cursing the sasquatch for her stiff muscles.

He’d tried to convince her to join him in the shower with him, telling Clawdeen with a little wink that “they could test their flexibility if she weren’t afraid of a little water.”

Clawdeen had seen the shower, though, and the obvious lack of space for two people, not to mention the million different scenarios of how she could slip and break something, only served to turn her off from any kind of bathroom activities.

Luckily, she’d managed to convince him that Aran would be showing up soon and he didn’t like to be kept waiting and that she had another client waiting somewhere else (kind of a lie, but it wasn’t like _he_ needed to know that; besides, she wasn’t hurting herself by doing so. It’d been almost two hours and he’d paid in full already).

Coincidentally, just as she slipped on her shoes, there was a sudden knock at the door. Clawdeen glanced up; she looked to the bathroom- the sasquatch continued whistling, unbothered- before standing up from the bed and trekking over to open the door.

She looked in the peephole; Aran stood outside, hands in his pocket as he looked around impatiently. A pair of mirror shades covered his eyes, and the dark sports coat he wore looked like it was made of some of the most expensive material around. Undoing the little chain latch and the lock, Clawdeen pulled the door open, popping her head out.

“H-Hi, Daddy,” she said.

Aran looked from where he’d been staring at something down the walkway to her. His brows were raised in impatience, though they quickly knitted in dismay as they landed on the werewolf. The action alone made Clawdeen bristle with fear.

“Haven’t I told you not to be the one to answer the door when someone comes?” he asked.

Clawdeen gripped the door tighter. “H-He was busy. I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t make it a habit,” he said as she stood to the side, allowing him to slide into the room. His head turned as if glancing around the room. “You got all your stuff?”

“Yeah,” Clawdeen confirmed as she went and grabbed her purse.

“You got the money?”

Clawdeen took out the stack of bills and handed it to them. After counting them and shoving them in his pocket, he grabbed Clawdeen’s arm and started to lead her out the room.

“Shouldn’t we tell him we’re leaving?” Clawdeen suggested as she pointed towards the bathroom.

Aran replied, “Why? If he’s so desperate to want a proper goodbye, he has my number.”

With that, they took their leave. As they made their way to the bottom of the motel stairs, the door to the room on the corner swung open. Grady and Clarissa strolled out from it, the latter stumbling along after her pimp as she tried to tug down the hem of her dress. Clawdeen watched Grady perk up as he caught sight of the two of them.

“Hey, Are,” he called out, “You got business here, too?”

 “Yeah,” Aran replied, “Selena had a little playdate and just made me half a grand already.”

Grady’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Holy shit, really?” he exclaimed, “Goddamn, the best I could start off with this morning was some accountant who offered an hour for three-fifty.”

Aran smirked, “Well, what do you expect, when the best you’re offering ‘em is lil Flatsy Patsy over there? Even the most fetishistic guys would probably get turned off by the sight of someone who looks like their sixth grader.”

He gestured to Clarissa with a nod of his head at the comment. Clawdeen glanced at her; the lobisomem wore a neutral face like she hadn’t heard him, her gaze focused on something down the street, but Clawdeen could see how she suddenly began to dig her nails into the back of her other hand, or how her cheeks had taken on a sudden red flush of embarrassment.

She shifted her focus back to Aran as he turned towards her. He gave her a smile, though she couldn’t decipher if it was one of haughtiness or fondness.

“I got me a good deal when I found my Selena,” he said, sliding a hand around her waist and bringing her closer to him, “She’s easily my favorite ghoul so far.”

Clawdeen felt a rush of excitement at his comment. She leaned into him, savoring the gentle touch.

Grady snorted, “I can see why.”

He eyed her figure up and down, his gaze darkening with lust as a sly grin crept onto his features.  

“In fact,” he said lowly, “I might just have to take a turn with her to see just how good she is.”

He licked his lips at the implication in a way that made Clawdeen’s hackles rise as any joy she was feeling instantly washed out and replaced with fear and apprehension. Her smile fell away, and she tried to not let the anxiety show on her face as she gripped Aran’s arm a bit tighter.

She didn’t want to be anywhere alone with Grady, especially being alone with him to do _that_ type of stuff. Was that even allowed? Guys having turns with another pimp’s girl? She had never heard of it happening. It sounded wrong, like she was invading the other girls’ territory. Like she was taking something away from Clarissa and Shelby, something she couldn’t explain that felt almost like betrayal.

Plus, she was nervous about having to discover firsthand the types of kinks the gator may have had. Though Grady seemed to one of the more level-headed guys in the circle (or, least, more so than someone like James), she’d overheard Shelby say how on some days he’d “leave her so sore that some days she could barely walk.”

At least Aran made her feel good most of the time when he wanted his way…

“You want a turn, you pay like everyone else,” Aran said.

Grady insisted, “Oh, come on man, not even a discount for your friend?”

“’Friend’ is pushing it, and no,” Aran said, “I don’t make any exceptions for my best bitch.”

Sighing dramatically, Grady shrugged. “Oh, well. It was worth a try.”

He turned to Clarissa and ordered with a point of his head, “Get in the car.”

Clarissa muttered a ‘yes, Daddy’ and trudged over to where the gator’s Cadillac was parked and slid into the passenger seat. As Grady opened his door, he nodded at Aran.

“Well, see you around,” he said, before he shot Clawdeen a predatory look, “And see _you_ around, lil Selena.”

Clawdeen swallowed hard, feeling small under his intense moss green stare. She smiled uneasily.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you a…a-round,” she replied.

As the Cadillac drove away, Aran directed her towards his Corvette.

“Come on,” he ordered, leading her along.

As he started up the engine and pulled out of the parking lot of the motel, Clawdeen leaned her head against the window. It was overcast today, the blue of the sky covered up with blankets of thick white clouds that blocked out the sun, giving everything a slight shadow and making the air about ten degrees cooler. She could see stray pieces of paper and garbage skid down the street as the wind dragged them along.

“Noticed you were a bit antsy back there,” Aran suddenly commented, “You didn’t seem too keen on the idea of Grady having you for a bit.”

Clawdeen stiffened. Her hands twisted in the hem of her dress, hesitantly turning to look at him. She upset him, she knew it, he was insulted that she was acting like she had a choice in the matter. Her eyes became watery at the mere thought of having to look and see the anger in his eyes.

“I-I just, I t-thought it was rude,” she stammered.

“Rude?”

“B-B-Because I’m…I’m _yours,”_ she said, “A-And I thought it’d be dis-disrespectful. For him to…um, go for another guy’s…um…”

She trailed off, her nervousness making her trip over her words. She bit her lip as she dared to make eye contact, bracing herself for the glare that was bound to be sent her way; possibly one that was accompanied by a tight grab or even a slap.

However, to her surprise, when she looked, there was no trace of exasperation in Aran’s eyes. Instead, she was confused to wide great mirth in his crystal blue stare. He grinned, shaking his head as he turned his attention back on the road with a chuckle.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna let any of the guys touch you. You’re mine and mine alone.”

He reached up and grabbed her knee, shaking it affectionately. His thumb rubbed her skin gently, making goosebumps run up Clawdeen’s arms. Shame welled up inside her as she reveled in his touch.

She didn’t know what she hated more; the fake gentleness of the touch, when she knew it was just a front, or the fact that she knew all this and still enjoyed it, still _craved_ for it whenever she could.

She tried to push those thoughts down. It made the guilt a little easier to deal with.

“I’m…I’m glad to be yours, Daddy,” she said.

* * *

 

_(Then...)_

_She was running. From what, she didn’t know. She didn’t even know where she was, or where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get as far away from whoever- or WHATever- it was as possible._

_She ran, her lungs burning and her legs straining as she struggled to keep going. To push forward, to stay just one step ahead. She didn’t dare look behind her, to see just how far or how close the thing was._

_Her surroundings morphed; she suddenly found herself in a dark hallway. The windows were boarded up, streams of moonlight pouring in, the wooden floor rotting and the wallpaper peeling. There was a door on the other end._

_Adrenaline rushing through her veins, she forced herself to go faster, desperately trying to reach the end of the hallway. But no matter how fast she ran, her distance did not improve. It was as if the hallway was growing longer, the door growing farther away with every step._

_Something grabbed her ankle. Clawdeen yelped as she felt her feet get pulled out from under her; she fell forward and slammed against the floor painfully, before she felt herself get yanked and dragged backwards._

_“NO!” she yelled out, scrambling for the floorboards in front of her. Her nails dug in and left deep scratches in the wood as she was dragged back, but there was little resistance. She kicked backwards to try and free herself to no avail, with some kind of appendage wrapping itself around her other leg and trailing up towards her thighs._

_Clawdeen screamed louder. The feel of tear streaks on her cheeks barely registered as she stared at the door at the end of the dark hallway with desperation, her heart sinking at its ever-increasing distance._

_Something slithered up her legs, before there was a sudden burning sensation between her thighs. One that felt as if she were being ripped in half, every nerve and muscle alight and stimulated. Clawdeen threw her head back with a screech, the agony unbearable._

_“STOP!” she howled, “STOP!”_

_Similar feelings broke out all over her body; stinging slashes swiping across her sides and the back of her legs and craters of fiery heat searing into her skin like a shower of hot embers. Clawdeen wailed in pain, wanting to just crawl into a little ball._

_Further and further she was dragged down the strange hallway. She cried out for help as she was dragged farther into whatever darkness she’d tried to escape from._

_“ **HELP!”** Clawdeen hollered, “ **SOMEBODY! HELP ME-“**_

_Something wrapped around her throat, cutting off her airway._

_“Shut up,” a man’s unfamiliar voice called out._

_Clawdeen gasped, the scene melting away in an instant; confusion swirled in her head as she suddenly blinked and found herself staring up at a ceiling. The flickering light was blurry. Had she been dreaming…?_

_She still couldn’t breathe. The vice around her throat tightened._

_“Shut up. Just shut up…”_

_She tried to claw at the hands wrapped tightly around her neck, only for the resistance of the handcuffs around her wrists to remind her that she was restrained._

_Clawdeen stared up at the person responsible, instantly frightened as she felt pressure build up in her chest and mouth with the need for air. She tried to plead for him to stop, only for any words to come out as pitiful little squeaks._

_“Just shut up,” the monster above her repeated, pale violet eyes staring down at her menacingly as he choked her. He didn’t even slow the movement of his hips as he moved against her. “Shut up, you whore. Shut up…”_

_His voice held no emotion. His eyes held no hint of concern towards the fact that he was suffocating the young wolf under him. They were bone-chillingly cold._

_“S-S-S-Stop,” Clawdeen managed to whimper out, “P-P-P-P-Please…”_

_Her lips felt numb, her lungs felt like they were ready to burst, and she could see black spots starting to dance in her vision. The man refused to let go; he never once broke his concentration as he moved against Clawdeen, his iron hold on her neck maintained._

_Was this it? Is this truly how she was to meet her end?_

_‘Please, no, not yet,’ Clawdeen mentally begged, although there was a part of her that resigned herself to the sweet release of death; who welcomed the final chance to escape this personal hell…_

_Right as she was about to black out, the man groaned as he came in a rush, before he suddenly loosened his hold on her and collapsed onto his elbows, rolling onto his back next to her as he came down from his climax. Clawdeen coughed as she tried to regain the air in her lungs; her esophagus felt like it was on fire._

_She stiffened against the bed as the man turned around and approached her; he glared down at her with frightening lavender eyes. Clawdeen stared back, wary of what he’d do next._

_“You should learn to keep quiet when you’re dreaming,” he said, “All that yelling in someone’s ear’s a major turn off. Next time, someone might have to shut you up for good.”_

_The implication was subtle, but enough. Clawdeen sniveled in terror, unable to break eye contact with him despite desperately wanting to avert her eyes from his cold gaping._

_She was overcome with so much emotion she wanted to scream, only to lose consciousness right after the man left before she could do so._

* * *

 

_Later, she awoke to the sounds of fabric rustling. She squinted as the harsh light of the room filled her vision, feeling another headache coming on as her eyes rolled to the side at where she had spotted movement._

_Dread filled her as she realized Striggy and Gem were both here now, the former currently undoing his belt and the zipper of his dirtied blue jeans down._

_“No, no…” Clawdeen objected in a small voice; she tried to back up so she could sit up straight against the bedframe, but her legs felt like lead and all she could do was kick weakly at the mattress._

_“Now, now, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Striggy said with mock comfort, “We’re just gonna have a little fun is all. Thought it’s about my turn, considering you’re in my house.”_

_Clawdeen tried to inch away as he reached for her; a futile effort, as Striggy swiftly grabbed her ankles and yanked her back down the bed so that she lay stretched out. She pressed her cheek against her shoulder as she looked away, starting to cry again as he crawled on top of her and forced her legs apart._

_Striggy licked his lips as he strolled down at the she-wolf’s body. “I’ve been wanting to get a piece of this ass for a while,” he confessed._

_He shot a look at Gem. “Get over here,” he answered, “Y’all both gonna entertain me.”_

_Clawdeen glanced over at her, silently pleading with the fairy with wide eyes. Gem didn’t even look in her direction as she obeyed Striggy and started to remove her own clothes, before sliding onto the bed by Clawdeen’s legs._

_“No, no, no, no, please,” Clawdeen protested, “G-Gem, please, don’t do this. Stop!”_

_Gem ignored her. Striggy seemed to take pleasure in her obedience, and he quickly pushed his pants off before adjusting his position over Clawdeen._

_“Oh, yeah,” he said gleefully, “Showtime.”_

_They both leaned forward towards her, the action reminding Clawdeen of a pair of hungry lions approaching a wounded zebra. Clawdeen sniffled and clamped her eyes shut, praying that it would at least be over quick._

* * *

 

_Clawdeen stared blankly at the wall. She was spaced out from the lack of stimuli, her mind barely registering the immense ache in her arms from their restrained position over her head, or how the ceiling light flickered with a faint buzzing sound, signaling that it’d need to be changed soon._

_Her wrists throbbed with pain; they had chafed on the cuffs to the point of bleeding again. Fresh rivulets caught and clumped into her fur along with the open scabs that were starting to form from the first time. Clawdeen didn’t notice._

_She was snapped out of her stupor at the sound of the door open. She lolled her head to the side to watch as Gem stepped through; the fairy was dressed like she was ready for bed, the oversized shirt practically hanging off her frame and hiding her shape and the lounge pants dragging on the floor over her feet._

_“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “Just have to get a few things for Sir.”_

_Gem’s appearance had become somewhat of a new routine; occasionally, in between the dozens of men who had their way with Clawdeen, now Gem would clean her off or bring her some food and water._

_Clawdeen often had to resist the urge to just bite her hands or aim for her throat. It wasn’t often, and only enough for her to keep down, but at least for a time period, the ache in her belly and the itchiness of her skin from all the grime would subside._

_Her hands balled into fists. Clawdeen watched with a stony expression as Gem walked over to the opposite wall, her back to the werewolf as she bent down in front of a pile of dust-covered boxes and started rummaging through them._

_Rage and absolute hate burned in Clawdeen’s chest. Her nose twitched as she gritted her teeth in a silent snarl at the fairy, her gold eyes blazing like she was trying to burn a hole through the pink back of Gem’s head. For a few seconds, silence stretched between them as Gem worked, the only sounds permeating the tense atmosphere being the shuffling of papers and rustling of various miscellaneous objects as Gem pulled them out and set them beside her._

_“I hate you.”_

_Gem paused. Clawdeen watched as her head slowly raised up, before she dipped it again and started going through the boxes again, albeit a bit slower than before, as Clawdeen noticed._

_Clawdeen suppressed a growl at the reaction. The wrath that had been building inside her overshadowed all other emotions or sensations she’d felt in her time alone, and right now, in the small window of clarity she had where she could properly think of what she wanted to say, it was all spilling over before she could stop herself._

_“I hate you, Gem,” she repeated, “I hate you so fucking much. You’re a sick, twisted excuse for a person and I wish I never met you.”_

_Against her best efforts, Clawdeen felt a fresh batch of tears well up in her eyes as she thought back to earlier._

_Humiliation and revulsion whirled up inside her at the memory of the things they did to her; how Gem just watched as Striggy held her down…how she went along with his commands and touched Clawdeen, her hands like icy daggers on the she-wolf’s skin…how they tried to force her body to react to their rough touches…_

_It only served to amplify the fire inside her, and she spat her next words like they were venom._

_“My family’s going to find me,” she stated matter-of-factly, although her voice wavered at the mention of her loved ones, “They know that you had something to do with it, and when they find out the things you and Striggy have done, they’ll be ruthless. They’ll hunt you down, because when you come for one wolf, you come for the whole pack._

_“And you deserve EVERY single thing that comes to you,” Clawdeen finished off bitingly._

_Gem stopped rummaging. She remained still and silent throughout the she-wolf’s prattle, her body language unreadable. She silently grabbed the items she’d been looking for and stood up. She clutched them to her chest protectively, as if using them for a makeshift shield as she turned around and started for the door. Clawdeen made a point to follow her with her eyes, her golden leer hard._

_Right as Gem reached for the door, a thought came to Clawdeen. A question that had been poking in the back of her mind in the spare moments she could still think clearly._

_“How many?” she suddenly questioned._

_Gem hesitated. She just stood there for a minute, before ever just slightly turning her head towards Clawdeen, glancing at her out of her peripheral._

_“How many other girls before me?” Clawdeen clarified, “Striggy said that you started all this because you both needed a ‘new’ girl. That means you’ve done this before, right?”_

_Gem was quiet. It was enough confirmation for her, though._

_“So tell me,” Clawdeen demanded, her voice cracking, “How many? How many other girls fell for your bullshit?”_

_Still nothing. Clawdeen gritted her teeth in frustration, hard enough that her jaw ached with the force. Her head was pounding and her body hurt with every slight movement, but for a moment they were numbed with the intense resentment she was feeling towards the pink haired girl in the room._

_“TELL ME!” she screamed, her words punctuated with a sob, “I deserve to know!”_

_Gem just kept staring. Clawdeen wanted to rip her head off._

_In that moment, however, all the fervor and fight went out of her, and Clawdeen didn’t wait for an answer as she broke down. She curled into a ball and buried one side of her face into the musty-smelling pillow, bawling as her tears soaked the soiled fabric. Her left shoulder hurt from the strain of her position, but she didn’t care._

_“I want my mom,” she confessed._

_She no longer cared about what Gem would say- not that she expected the fairy to answer anyway. At that point, all she wanted was to feel the warm, loving embrace of her parents and be able to feel like things were okay again._

_The sounds of clinking metal and the whining of rusted hinges let her know that Gem was leaving. She didn’t turn to watch._

_However, her ears faintly picked up something the fairy mumbled right as she left. Clawdeen, too overcome with despair, didn’t dwell on it or pay much attention to it._

_There was a brief thought in her mind, however, that she could’ve sworn she heard Gem mutter an ‘I’m sorry’._

* * *

 

_There was a thump against the mattress under her. Clawdeen stirred, squinting as she came to. It had become awfully stuffy in the room, and her head swam with the unbearable heat that seemed to blanket her entire body. She slowly looked up to see Striggy and Gem standing next to the bed, both looking down at her. Gem’s head was tilted._

_“Rise and shine, wild girl,” Striggy said as he dug in his pocket, “You’ve got a big day today.”_

_Clawdeen blinked. She rasped out, “Big…day…?”_

_He ignored her as he turned to Gem, crossing his arms. Gem looked up at him with a wide-eyed, almost childish look; it reminded Clawdeen of her younger siblings whenever they wanted to help out their dad with something, like washing the car or putting furniture together- eager and ready to get to work the second they were given instructions._

_“We need to hurry,” he said, “It’s going to take us around an hour to get to Seattle, so we need to be ready and out of here by ten so he doesn’t think we backed out.”_

_“I understand, sir,” Gem answered._

_Striggy nodded, “Good. Help me get her up.”_

_He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. Clawdeen, still dazed with exhaustion, watched with puzzlement and shock as he leaned over and undid the handcuffs around her wrists, a small ‘click’ from the key loosening the tight metal and allowing her arms to finally fall free._

_Clawdeen groaned; her shoulders and arms ached as they fell away from the bedframe, sore from their constant propped up position. She could feel an accumulation of knots in her back from where the muscles had tightened and had been unable to relax._

_After undoing the second handcuff, Striggy moved to rest his knee on the pillow, right against her back, before shoving his hands under her armpits. Gem grabbed her ankles and slid them onto the floor, the two of them maneuvering her into a sitting position before they took ahold of one of her arms on each side and began to guide her into the hallway._

_“W-What are you…doing?” Clawdeen asked in shock, glancing between the two of them. Her stomach clenched at the various scenarios that swirled in her head about wherever they’d planned on taking her._

_Neither cryptid answered, both focused on trying to direct her through the hallway; it was a difficult task- Clawdeen could feel her legs shake with every step, her feet straining in immense pain under her weight. She knew that without either of them holding her up, she would’ve collapsed._

_She glanced down at the hallway as they finally left the room. It was dusty and hot, with unpacked boxes strewn along the floor and a fine layer of dust covering everything. She winced as her eyes adjusted to the bright light that seeped in from the windows on the walls. It had been so long since she had seen natural light…_

_“Aaand, right this way,” Striggy narrated as he pushed open a door to the left, revealing the inside to be a dirty and decrepit bathroom. The smell of mold and mildew hit Clawdeen like a ton of bricks._

_Striggy and Gem dragged her to the far end, where the shower lay. Directing her to step up into the tub, Striggy all but shoved her in; Clawdeen cried out in alarm, her legs instantly giving out, forcing her to grab the bar set into the wall to keep herself upright._

_Leaning against it, she turned to face her kidnappers, only to let out a shrill shriek as she was suddenly doused with a stream of water as the shower head was turned on._

_“Shut up,” Striggy snapped, “It’s not acid, you’ll fucking live.”_

_Gem pulled back the curtain and held out a few items to her. Clawdeen looked down to see they were an old sponge and a plastic bottle of what looked to be either shampoo or body wash. She looked back up at them, confused._

_“Clean yourself up,” Striggy demanded, “We need you to look at least decent for our guests, and we can’t do that when you smell like a dumpster, can we?”_

_She didn’t take the items. She just stared at him as she leaned against the shower bar, shivering under the chilling spray._

_“Of course, one of **us** could always help you…” he said, trailing off._

_The implication was enough to get Clawdeen moving. Biting her lip against the urge to cry, she quickly grabbed the items from Gem and, supporting her weight against the shower wall, began to clean herself._

_It was humiliating, feeling them staring at her exposed body. Clawdeen withheld a grimace as the thin shampoo stung her wounds, the pain especially burning as she reached her genital area; her hands shook as she sponged her arms and legs; the water was freezing cold, causing goosebumps to prickle all along her skin as her whole being quivered violently. She was afraid to move, the slightest slip of her feet against the wet tile causing her to immediately grab onto the shower bar for dear life._

_“And the hair too,” Striggy commented, “Make sure you get that as well.”_

_In any other circumstance, Clawdeen would’ve given him a scathing reply, but right now, all she could focus on was getting out from under the ice-cold curtain of water. Nodding obediently, she poured some shampoo into her palm and struggled to lift her arms above her head as she lathered it into her scalp; her hair felt brittle and limp as she ran her fingers through it. Several strands came off as she took her hands away._

_Striggy nodded in approval as she rinsed off, reaching over to turn the water off before handing her a towel. It smelled of mildew as Clawdeen clumsily attempted to dry her fur as best she could, before wrapping it around herself and holding it together with one hand._

_As she struggled to keep her balance as she stepped out of the tub, Gem grabbed a pile of clothing that sat on top of the toilet and thrusted it at her. Clawdeen hesitantly took them._

_“Now get your pretty clothes on,” Striggy said impatiently, “We have to hustle.”_

_Clawdeen just stood there, holding the clothes to her chest as she glared at them._

_“Well, go on now, girl,” he said, “We don’t have all day!”_

_“I don’t want you looking at me!” she snapped._

_He didn’t even seem fazed by her attitude. He just scoffed, “It’s a bit late to try and be modest sweetheart.”_

_Clawdeen felt her face burn. She scowled at him, but did as she was told; in her own little act of defiance, though, she turned her back to them and adjusted the towel so it rested on her shoulders, keeping her backside hidden from view as she balanced on one leg to pull on the pair of underwear and shorts she’d been given._

_Behind her, she could hear Striggy huff._

_“Wiseass little bitch, aren’t you?” he asked, “Not to worry, you’ll learn some manners soon.”_

_Finally allowing the towel to drop to the floor, Clawdeen ignored him as she slid her hands through the sleeves of the thin black t-shirt and pulled it over her head. It was too small- the sleeves were stiff and tight on her arms and a good portion of her stomach was left exposed._

_“In fact, I have a good feeling some of these guys will be INSISTENT that you learn,” Striggy added._

_There was a presence behind her. Clawdeen paused, staring ahead._

_She heard Gem’s voice in her ear._

_“I’m sorry about this,” the fairy muttered, before something thick was brought over her mouth._

_Clawdeen’s brows shot up. She hollered out in alarm, but her voice was muffled by the fabric on her face. Her nostrils were invaded by the heavy smell of chemicals; she started to thrash as she immediately realized what it was, but Gem threw her arm across her front and restrained her._

_“Mmm! Mmmmph!” she exclaimed. Her pulse quickened with adrenaline as she could already feel the chloroform’s affects start to set in, a sudden light-headedness setting in and her limbs feeling heavy._

_“It’s okay,” Gem whispered to her, “Just go to sleep. Just go to sleep and forget it all for now.”_

_“Listen to her,” Striggy said in amusement, “There’s no use in fighting it.”_

_Clawdeen clawed at her hand, trying to fight her off. It was of little use, though, as she was steadily overcome with the feeling of floating away, as if she were drifting out of her body._

_Eyes rolling to the back of her head, she last felt her body completely give out and be lowered to the floor, before she was whisked away into oblivion once more._

* * *

 

_The first thing that registered was the vibration of from an engine and the feeling of something getting run over, causing her jerk in her position._

_Eyes fluttering open, Clawdeen lifted her head to grasp her surroundings. She was in a car- one she recognized as the same truck that Gem and Striggy picked her up in- and was laying on her side on the backseat. Striggy and Gem, just like last time, sat in the front in the driver and passenger seats._

_There was the chill of metal against her skin. She craned her to neck to see her hands had been placed behind her back; from the slight coolness, she could only guess she had been handcuffed once again._

_Clawdeen glanced out the window. They seemed to be going down some sort of dirt road in a forest, with dead brown grass and shrubs dotting along the edge of the road while tall green pines and spruces formed rows that seemed to stretch on for miles._

_She let out a groan as the track suddenly made a sharp turn and a wave of nausea overtook her, causing her stomach to roll. Grogginess made her head feel like she’d just been hit with a bat. Her limbs felt like jelly._

_The noise alerted Striggy, who looked up at her from the rearview mirror._

_“Good, you’re up,” he said, “We gave you an extra dosage after you were out to make sure you didn’t wake up and cause a ruckus during the drive, but I had started to worry you were going to still be out by the time we got there.”_

_Clawdeen didn’t respond to that._

_Striggy turned back to the road. He spoke nonchalantly, like they were all just a trio of pals going out for a drive._

_“Here’s the deal,” he said, “We’re heading out to meet some fellows who are going to take you off our hands. A very nice man in DC has offered us a pretty penny in exchange for you having you in his care._

_“So, we’re going to be meeting with some acquaintances of this nice man who are going to help transport you and some other girls to meet him and the guys who’ve bought them. And you’re going to be a good girl about it and do as they tell you and not throw a fuss, okay?” he explained, giving her an inquisitive look._

_Her head too fuzzy to form a reply, Clawdeen could only stare at him. Striggy seemed to take that as a silent agreement._

_“Good,” he nodded, “Glad we understand each other.”_

_He made another sharp right turn; Clawdeen shouted as she felt herself roll forward, the force causing her to fall off the seat and land on the floor of the truck with an ‘oof’!_

_Gem twisted in her seat in alarm. Catching sight of the she-wolf on the floor, she gave a concerned look to Striggy and pointed. “Um, sir, she’s-“_

_“Aw, she’ll be fine,” Striggy interrupted, “The bitch is right where she belongs anyway.”_

_Clawdeen grimaced as she wriggled on the floor, trying to find a way to push herself upright or at least get more comfortable. The truck’s bottom was absolutely filthy- she could feel dozens of small crumbs, rocks, and dirt particles press against her skin; the fur near her leg felt tacky as it landed on a sticky puddle of dried liquid, and the bottom lever of the seat dug into her shoulder uncomfortably._

_She could hear a crunching sound from under her as the tires went over gravel, before she felt the car’s velocity begin to decrease as it slowed down._

_From the driver’s seat, she heard Striggy mutter, “Thank god.”_

_He pressed harder on the break, and the truck came to a stop with a hard jerk. She heard Striggy undo his seatbelt and mutter a “stay here” to Gem, before he got out, trekking over to the side where she lay and opening it. She stared up at him apprehensively, forced to squint in the light pouring in._

_“Come on,” he said, reaching in and pulling her out. She stumbled as he placed her on the ground and immediately yanked her forward._

_Clawdeen raised her head to notice that there was another truck up ahead. Two men, a water elemental and a werecat, stood by it with their arms crossed, watching the two of them with pinched expressions._

_“About time you showed up, Mawcorn,” the water elemental commented, “We were beginning to think you’d backed out.”_

_“And miss out on five hundred grand? As if!” Striggy exclaimed._

_The werecat turned his head towards Clawdeen and looked her up and down. “This her?”_

_“Yes sir, and she’s all ready to go!” Striggy said._

_She felt him grab a hold of the chain linking her handcuffs together and undid them, before shoving her towards the two men. Clawdeen tripped as she fell forward; the werecat caught her by the arm and dragged her upright. She looked at him fearfully, anxiousness building up in her chest at the coldness in his bright blue eyes._

_“Speaking of the money,” Striggy added, fiddling with the handcuffs, “When can I expect to get my check?”_

_“You’ll get it as soon as the boss gets his merch,” the water elemental answered, “He needs to make sure he’s actually getting what he’s paying for, with all the shit we have to do transporting these bitches around.”_

_Striggy held his hands up in defense. “I get it, I get it! Nobody likes a rip-off. He just wants to double check, I understand completely!_

_“Well, then, I’ll just be on my way,” he said._

_He gave Clawdeen a smirk, giving her one last look-over._

_“Hope you have fun in your new home, Deenie,” he said mockingly._

_Clawdeen glowered at him with hate, her hands balling into fists. She glared daggers into his back as he turned around and started walking away from the trio, heading back to the truck. Clawdeen raised her head to look ahead of him, catching sight of Gem in the passenger seat._

_The fairy kept her head down, her focus away from the scene._

_Behind her, the werecat scoffed. “Come on, let’s go,” he told his companion._

_Clawdeen snapped her attention back to them as he started pulling her backward; the water elemental came up and grabbed her other arm and the two of them began guiding her towards their own vehicle. She immediately began to resist and attempted to pull herself backwards._

_“N-No, no,” she objected, “Please just-“_

_“Shut up, you dumb slut,” the water elemental cut her off as him and the werecat tightened their grip on her arms, hauling her with more force to the back of the truck._

_It was a small delivery truck, similar to the ones made for transporting packages or for moving furniture. Releasing one hand from Clawdeen, the werecat undid the lock on the back and slid his hand into the handle to slide the door up, revealing the inside of the storage area._

_Claween looked inside, shocked when she saw several other pairs of frightened eyes staring back at her._

_The men shoved her into the back, the werecat climbing up on the platform and using his boot to push her back enough so that she wasn’t in line of where the door came down._

_“Not a peep out of any one of you,” he said harshly, “And don’t even think of trying anything funny, if you don’t want things to get nasty….”_

_Claween felt her heart leap in her chest as he pulled up the side of his flannel to reveal a pistol in a holster at his hip. She whined in fear; she could hear a few of the other girls whimper along with her._

_Seeing his message got across, the werecat slammed the door down, leaving the group in total darkness._

_A few seconds later, the sound of an engine starting up to be heard, before there was the sensation of the truck moving. Clawdeen stared at the direction of the door forlornly._

_She looked over her shoulder at the other occupants, her night vision allowing her to see in the pitch black of the cargo space. There were seven others, all of them staring emptily into the dark as they bobbed with the truck’s movements. She noticed a sparse collection of water bottles and wrappers on the ground, along with some blankets that were spread out along the floor. It reminded her of the makeshift camps that she’d seen homeless people make in the city along overpasses and highways._

_All the girls looked in poor condition; even in the dark, she could see dark circles under their eyes that made their faces look skeletal. Some of them looked extremely thin, their raggedy clothes nearly hanging off their frames. The stench of sweat and other bodily fluids hung in the air like a cloud of noxious gas, enough to almost make her gag. It was also unbearably hot in the back, and within minutes her clothes and fur were soaked with sweat._

_She heard a sniffle to the right; a Pegasus lay on her side, her head in the lap of a vampire who sat crossed-legged and who slowly stroked her hair. The pegasus’ shoulders shook._

_“I’m so hungry,” she said in a meek voice, “The pain won’t go away. It hurts so much.”_

_“Just hang in there,” the vampire said, trying to soothe, “We only have a few more days.”_

_Beside them, a harpy sat hugging her knees, her eyes darting to and from random spots in a manic way as she pressed her lips to them. Clawdeen could hear her muttering something in Greek under her breath._

_Opposite of them, a peryton sat against the wall, her legs spread out in front of her as her hands rested in her lap. She fiddled with an elastic band on her wrist, consistently pulling it back so it snapped against her skin. A basilisk lay beside her, curled into a ball with her hands buried into her stringy hair; her eyes had been covered with what looked to be a leather blindfold. A wendigo sat slumped in the corner, her head hanging low as she slept. Her foot and hands twitched occasionally._

_They all had a glassy, dead look in their eyes, like this was a situation they’d become accustomed to._

_Clawdeen jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked to see a qilin beside her holding a water bottle. The latter’s topaz eyes were fully dilated in the dark._

_“Do you…d-do you want some water?” she offered, holding the bottle out to Clawdeen._

_The small gesture was enough to make Clawdeen want to cry. Nodding slowly, she gratefully took it from the qilin and twisted the cap to take a sip._

_“Thanks,” she said, a croak in her voice._

_It was hardly anything to keep one hydrated- it was a small bottle, probably only about eight ounces in it, one more suited for a small child._

_Wiping her mouth, Clawdeen held the bottle protectively to her chest as she looked around._

_“H-H-How long are they going to keep us in here?” she asked warily._

_The qilin fiddled with her skirt as she answered, “Until we get to where they’re supposed to be taking us. Sometimes it’s only a few hours or days. It’s hard to tell when we can’t see outside.”_

_“What…what about food?” Clawdeen inquired._

_Right now, the thought of eating anything made her nauseated, but it wasn’t quite enough to tone down the hunger pangs beginning to rumble in her stomach again._

_“They’ll give us some snacks when they stop sometimes,” the peryton answered this time, “Sometimes, that’s a few hours. Other times a few days. It all depends on if they feel like giving a damn about us. Money adds up, ya know?”_

_“But we…we could die in here!” she exclaimed._

_“You think they give a damn?” the peryton countered, “The only thing they’ll be sad at is that they didn’t get what they paid for. But they’ll get over it. Sure, it’s time wasted, but there’s always plenty of other pretty ghouls for them to pick and fuck.”_

_She lazily turned her gaze back to the wall opposite of her, blankly staring at it as she continued to snap the elastic band against her wrist._

_The vampire briefly looked up at her, continuing to stroke her friend’s hair. “You…you could try to sleep. It helps time go by faster.”_

_They all sounded so defeated and resigned. Like they had gone through this plenty of times to know what to expect; and for some, if not all of them, they probably had. Like they had long lost entertaining any kind of thought that they could do something about it._

_The realization brought a lump to Clawdeen’s throat as she was suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to cry._

_She scooted back until she felt her backside touch the wall of the truck; pulling her knees up against her chest, she wrapped her arms around them like the harpy. She rocked back and forth as desperate, frantic thoughts filled her mind._

_‘This won’t be me,’ she tried telling herself, ‘The pack will find me. They’ll find me and take me home. They won’t let me get sold, they won’t let me get taken all the way to DC. They’ll find me and they’ll take me home. They’ll find me and take me home and Gem and Striggy will be arrested and they’ll pay for what they did. They’ll find me, they’ll find me…’_

_“They’ll find me,” she whispered to herself in a small voice thick with emotion, “They’ll find me, they’ll find me…”_

_She continued to rock back and forth as she repeated the words over and over, though in her heart she was finding it harder and harder to believe them._

* * *

_“Come on, get moving,” the water elemental said as he roughly pushed her forward._

_Clawdeen stumbled but managed to keep her footing as she walked to where the werecat was assembling the other girls in a group._

_They were standing outside some sort of warehouse that looked like it was in the middle of nowhere, the sparse flora yellow and dead and the horizon decorated with a faraway mountain range. The sky was a bright blood orange, the sun a small illuminated circle as it set._

_She swayed on her feet, feeling a migraine start to come upon her from exhaustion. She had gotten little sleep on the long journey, with what little shut-eye she got consistently being disrupted by horrible nightmares and the unbearable heat inside. The jerky movements of the men’s driving also gave her episodes of extreme motion sickness, and in addition to lack of food, save for some stale granola bars the drivers tossed them at one point, Clawdeen felt like she was going to vomit several times._

_As the water elemental pulled the last girl, the wendigo, out of the car, the werecat walked over to a door on the side of the warehouse and unlocked it, pointing them forward._

_“This way,” he said, “Keep in line, single file.”_

_The girls obeyed and started for the entrance, keeping their heads down and their arms either at their sides or hugging themselves as they moved. He led them through several rows of shelves that were packed with thousands of boxes, the fluorescent lighting glaring down upon them._

_They came to an area that had been cleared out, save for a few piles of plastic-wrapped piles of packages and a forklift; Clawdeen felt unease come on to her as she saw a group of men hanging around there, their heads turning at the sound of them and their eyes brightening as they observed the pretty young girls being brought to them._

_“Line up,” the werecat snapped, “Side by side. And keep still.”_

_He emphasized his demands by grabbing the basilisk by the arm and forcefully adjusting her position. Her face screwed up in pain at the force of his grip._

_Not wanting to be on the receiving end like she was, Clawdeen and the others hurriedly made their way to her and stood next to one another. Clawdeen tried to stand still, but it was hard to keep from looking down when all she could see was the lecherous leers of the men standing before them._

_One guy got up from where he sat up against a stack of crates and started for them. He was human, with combed back black hair and matching beard trimmed; he wore a sportscoat and a silk shirt that was unbuttoned near his collarbone, exposing the polished gold chain that rested against his heavily tanned skin._

_“This all of them?” he asked the transporters._

_“All of them except that one,” the werecat responded gruffly, nodding towards Clawdeen, “She’s Hoovestein’s.”_

_The human looked in her direction. Clawdeen shuffled on her feet, feeling immensely uncomfortable at the way his eyes trailed down her frame._

_“Of course,” he said with a smile as he walked up to her, “Aran’s new she-wolf. Aren’t you just a site to behold.  And what is your name?”_

_“C-C-Clawdeen…” she stammered._

_She got a ‘tsk’ from him in response, like he was disappointed to hear that as her answer._

_“No, that won’t do,” he said, “Too plain! You need one that suits your more, one that’s livelier.”_

_He put his finger to his lips, regarding her with furrowed brows as he thought it over. He suddenly smiled and snapped his fingers like he’d had an epiphany._

_“Aha, I got it!” he exclaimed, “From now on, you’re ‘Selena’. So much more fitting, ain’t it?”_

_“S-Selena?” Clawdeen repeated._

_“See, you’re already adapting to it!” he exclaimed, before he reached up to put his hands on her shoulders._

_“Well, don’t worry, Selena, we’ll have you to your new home soon enough,” he said reassuringly (Clawdeen found nothing comforting about it), “We just have to get these other ladies sorted out and then we’ll get going, okay?”_

_He moved on down the row before she got a chance to respond. Stopping before the basilisk, who stood beside her, he frowned in disgust as he observed her features. Still blindfolded, the basilisk was unable to look at him, but she seemed to sense his presence, as she tilted her quivering chin up._

_“Man, they’re just taking anything off the streets now, aren’t they?” the black-haired man commented._

_“Well you know what they say: If it fucks, it’s good enough,” one of his companions said from the back, earning a chorus of laughter from the other men. The basilisk lowered her chin to her collarbone, her face bright red._

_He moved on down. The peryton wouldn’t look at him, her gaze focused on her worn-out sneakers._

_“And your name?” he asked._

_“Candy,” Clawdeen heard her mutter._

_He tilted his ear towards her. “Pardon?”_

_“ **Candy,”** the peryton repeated, her voice louder and with the slight hint of an edge to it. _

_If he took offense to the attitude, the man showed no signs. Instead he just snorted and tapped her chest with the back of his hand._

_“Can tell this isn’t your first rodeo,” he commented as he walked on to the wendigo, whom he gave only a once-over before he moved on._

_The harpy kept her gaze ahead at the wall, her stare intense as if she were trying to melt it. Clawdeen could see her fists were balled at her side, and the feathered girl continued to mumble like she was trying to cast a hex on someone. It was rather frightening to watch. The man watched her for a few seconds, a quizzical expression on his face, before he shrugged and moved on._

_He gave brief nods to the qilin and the wendigo, before he stopped in front of the vampire and the Pegasus. They both looked away, their shoulders hunched up tightly as if they were afraid to be struck at any second. He looked between the both of them, squinting like he had noticed something particulate about them and was trying to figure it out._

_Finally, he waved the both of them off, before he turned to the other men at the stacks._

_“These two, I want them to stay here,” he said, pointing to the peryton and the qilin._

_“Those two go to Amsterdam,” he said, regarding the basilisk and the wendigo, before pointing to the vampire, “And she goes to Thailand. I’ll take the wolf where she needs to be.”_

_“And them?” a salamander asked as he pointed to the harpy and the Pegasus._

_The man looked over at them with a sneer, “I don’t want those two. Do whatever you can with them.”_

_At that statement, Clawdeen noticed how both the vampire and Pegasus went extremely pale._

_Nodding in understanding of his decision, the transporters and the rest of the men started to advance on the group. He strolled back to Clawdeen and grabbed her arm._

_“This way, Selena,” he said, “We’ll want to hurry- don’t want to keep the boss waiting for his new toy, do we?”_

_Clawdeen balled her fists at his word choice. However, she chose to keep quiet and allowed him to guide her to a door nearby._

_“No, no, please! Please, you can’t separate us!”_

_She stopped and looked over her shoulder. The vampire and the Pegasus held onto each other tightly, resisting greatly against the men as two of them attempted to pry them apart. The vampire’s face of was full of fear as she looked at the men; the pegasus had her face buried against her chest and was sobbing, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt._

_“No, no,” she sobbed, “I don’t wanna go! I won’t!”_

_They both screamed as managed to get their hands around them and separate them, before they began to yank the two in opposite directions. Both girls continued to struggle, reaching a hand to each other._

_“Bellamy!” the Pegasus cried out as she was dragged away, “Don’t go! don’t leave me!”_

_“I love you!” the vampire sobbed, “I’ll find you, I will!”_

_The sight was heartbreaking. Clawdeen felt her chest tighten almost painfully as she watched the girls, feeling deeply for them and despairing over the fact she couldn’t help either of them._

_She was forced to turn away as the human man put his arm on her back and lightly pushed her forward._

_“Ignore them, they’re just having temper tantrums,” he said dismissively as he led her outside._

_A dirtied white van stood parked a few feet away. It looked exactly like the classic kidnapper van from the movies, with no windows besides the driver and passenger seats and sliding doors. Clawdeen also noticed that it was missing its back-license plate._

_The man dug around for his keys and unlocked the back doors. It was empty inside, save for a few black bags. The floor looked in desperate need for vacuuming._

_Clawdeen sighed. It was bound to be a long, long ride._

_“Whoa, hold on there one second, cowgirl,” the human man interjected as she started climbing into the truck bed, “First, we need to do a few things to get you prepared.”_

_She turned to him; she didn’t look forward to finding out what ‘preparation’ he meant. Just then, two men strolled out of the warehouse and started towards them. Clawdeen felt her hackles raise at the sight of one of them carrying a length of rope in his hands._

_The man made a circle gesture with his finger. “Okay, turn around.”_

_Just the thought of the thick, course rope rubbing against the barely healed scars on her wrists made Clawdeen’s arms throb with phantom pain; swallowing the urge to run, she turned around and held her arms out. Sure enough, a moment later one of the men grabbed her and began tying her hands together._

_“All right, just a little safety precaution,” the human guy announced, “Aaaand, a little something to take the edge off…”_

_She didn’t like the sound of that. Curious, Clawdeen looked over her shoulder, only to feel dread come over her as she saw him holding a vial of some clear liquid in one hand and extracting some of it into the thin syringe in his other._

_Stuffing the vial back into his pocket, he went for her. Unconsciously, Clawdeen began to back up, though she was immediately stopped by the guards grabbing her arms._

_“No, no, don’t be scared. It’s just a little gift for you to help you relax, keep you calm for the trip,” the human man tried to soothe as he approached._

_“No, no…” Clawdeen objected._

_She was tired of being drugged, tired of being unable to move or think straight. It was as if she were trapped in her own body, helpless to do anything but stare, a constant fog over her head like was she possessed, and some sort of spirit had taken control._

_It was a terrifying experience, being a prisoner of your own being._

_The man made a ‘shhh’ noise as he started to brush her hair back from her neck, exposing an area near her shoulder._

_“P-Please,” she still tried to negotiate, “Please, n-no more needles. I-I-I promise I’ll be good on the ride. I won’t scream, o-or thrash, or anything! I’ll be quiet all the way, I promise you!”_

_The man paused. He met her eyes, his brow crinkled like he couldn’t quite registered what he had said. He then blinked, before a smile slowly stretched onto his lined face._

_“Oh, I know you’ll be good, wolfy, ” he said._

_He leaned forward until the two were almost nose to nose. Clawdeen backed up against the guards’ chest, afraid of the dark glint in his eye._

_“Because if you try anything, I’ll fuck you,” he said gently, before nodding to the guards, “And then THEY’LL fuck you. Maybe once or twice, depending on how we’re feeling, but we’ll fuck you. And we’ll fuck you hard; I’ll make sure you’ll bleed. That you’ll scream._

_“And then,” he said in a lower voice, “I might just cut your leg off, to make sure you really can’t run. You’d be surprised how high a price amputees run in this business, how badly some people would really love to fuck a stump.”_

_Clawdeen hunched her shoulders up, staring up at him and his assistants with renewed terror. She felt extremely small of a sudden, being nearly boxed in by the trio surrounding her. The human man’s dark eyes piercing right through her like a steel blade, as if they were looking into the very depths of her soul. His companions gave her dark grins as they eyed her bust and lips, their fantasies of being alone with her obvious on her face._

_Her breath hitched when she suddenly felt something cold prick her bare thigh._

_“I mean it,” the man said, pressing the knife harder, “Any funny games, and I start cutting.”_

_“I-I’ll behave,” she repeated, her voice barely audible._

_He smiled and gave a nod. “Good. Glad we understand each other.”_

_With that, he jabbed the end of the syringe right into the side of her neck._

_Clawdeen had barely enough time to react- her mouth falling in an o-shape of shock at the sudden pain of the needle piercing her skin- before she quickly felt drowsiness overtake her. Her vision began to blacken and her legs gave out, leaving her to almost crumble into a heap on the ground had the guards not caught her._

_They quickly lifted her into the back of the van and laid her on the floor. Her eyelids felt heavy as she struggled to squint at the men._

_The human man grinned like he found her position amusing._

_“Sleep well, dear,” he said mockingly, “We got a long ride ahead of us.”_

_With that, he shut the doors, just as Clawdeen fell herself fade away once more._

* * *

 ( _Now...)_

The car stopped on the corner, just above the streetlight. Clawdeen opened the door and lifted herself out; she was proceeding to smooth down her skirt when she suddenly jumped at the feeling of someone pitching her bottom.

She whirled around. The driver of the car gave her a cheeky grin.

“See ya ‘round, Selena,” he said.

Clawdeen tried to play it off with a grin of her own, although internally she wished she could just slap him for his touch. “I hope I do,” she said with fake giddiness.

As he drove off, she walked up the block. Shelby, Kimber, and Ruby were currently waiting around, the three of them all trembling with cold as they huddled in their coats. It was getting warmer out lately, but the nights still carried a chill that dug deep down into your bones.

Ruby was the first to acknowledge her as Clawdeen reclaimed her spot next to them. She asked, “How much you make this time?”

“Three-eighty,” Clawdeen answered, “The guy wasn’t too bad. The tip could’ve been better, though.”

“Shit, really?” Ruby exclaimed, “Damn, Sel. Only two or three more guys, and I reckon you’ll meet your quota by ten. That’s bound to be a new record or something among us.”

Kimber pouted, “Lucky. I’ve been practically having to beg all my guys just for two hundred. It’s like everyone’s suddenly been turned off from me for some reason lately…”

Ruby put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you’ve just been a little off your mojo lately? I’ve noticed you’ve been pretty down these last few weeks. Maybe they’re picking up on that?”

“Maybe,” Kimber said, looking even more discouraged, “I don’t mean to be, though.”

“Or maybe a certain someone just keeps stealing your guys,” Shelby muttered.

Clawdeen shot her a glare, though she said nothing in response; she wasn’t in the mood for a verbal sparring with the sea monster. Right now, all she cared about was getting her money, meeting her quota, and getting to go home.

A Mazda pulled up in front of them and opened to reveal Vixen, who took a moment after getting out to pull on her jacket before joining the group. The driver of the car smiled at the girls cheekily; they all smiled back and gave little waves.

“Everything good?” Clawdeen asked Vixen as he drove away.

Vixen shrugged as she pulled her hair from her collar. “I guess?” she said, “I don’t know. He wanted a blowjob and an hour, but then after we screwed he wanted another one, but then he couldn’t get hard and it was just weird and awkward. He paid good, at least.”

A Toyota came from around the corner and stopped just a few feet away from them. They looked through the windshield to see a rather disheveled Starla and a skunk ape, who was looking a little more than embarrassed.

Starla quickly got out of the car and trekked towards them without giving a second glance to the vehicle. Clawdeen watched as the skunk ape rolled down his window and leaned his head out.

“Sorry about that, darling!” he said, “Like I said, I’m really sorry! I normally don’t get like that!”

“Yeah, whatever,” she heard Starla mutter.

The girls all turned their heads to look at the phoenix as she stood next to Vixen. She didn’t look at them, instead keeping her gaze focused on the ground as she lit a new cigarette.

“The hell’s the matter with you?” Ruby asked.

Starla didn’t answer at first; she just took a drag and blew out the smoke, before she quickly took another one. Finally, she turned to them.

“Do I give off some sort of energy?” she asked, putting her hands to her chest, “Like, is there something in my looks or my clothes that gives some sort of subliminal messages I’m into weird kinky shit, or am I just having a lot of coincidences?”

Kimber asked, “What happened?”

“The fucking guy nearly crushed my fucking windpipe, that’s what happened,” Starla snapped, gesturing to the direction where the Toyota had taken off, “I mean, it started out good, it started out okay; he was a little shy, probably only done this a few times, but that’s okay, we start doing it.

“But then,” she explained, “He started putting his hands around my neck. Okay, so he’s kind of a choker, no big deal, right? But then, he gets _really_ into it. Like, he keeps pressing, keeps gripping harder, to the point it feels like he’s actually trying to kill me. Like, I couldn’t fucking breathe for a good minute. Then he tried to…”

She trailed off, an uncharacteristic choke in her voice as she tore her gaze away from the group and looked in the other direction. Clawdeen and the others looked at her in concern. It wasn’t common to the see the phoenix so wound up; in a posture unlike herself, Starla had her arms wrapped herself protectively and her lip quivering. Vixen put a hand on her arm in a gesture of comfort.

Finally, after a few seconds of silence, Starla took a deep breath and blinked away the tears in her eyes.

“It’s just,” she said dismissively, “Fucking Thursday nights, am I right?”

Shelby scoffed, “Oh, I know that feeling.”

They all stood around for a few minutes, before a black Subaru pulled up. The window rolled down to reveal an older looking plant monster, who gestured at Shelby.

“Hey, sea girl, think you could help me find some hidden treasure?” he asked.

 _Oh god,_ Clawdeen though. Shelby, however, seemed delighted at the offer.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, gathering her purse and making her way towards his car.

As she opened the passenger side door, she turned back to the group.

“By the way, Selena,” she said in a sweet tone, “Do try be a little humble with your clients. Some of us also want to make money by the end of the night in the honest way.”

“Fuck off, Shelby,” Clawdeen snarled back.

Shelby wasn’t even fazed. She just turned with a satisfied smile and slid into the car, of which sped off afterward. Clawdeen stared at its tail-lights, fuming at the sea monster’s comments.

She knew Shelby was just doing it to get under her skin, and often managed to ignore it for the most part, but sometimes it just got on her last nerve. She wasn’t trying to prevent the other girls from getting men, but what was she about to do if a bunch of guys picked her? Turn them down? As if!

It was rather ironic, she thought, that even the trafficking world had its share of Toraleis and Moanicas she’d have to deal with.

Frustrated that she’d allowed herself to get so wound up, Clawdeen looked to Starla and eyed the cigarette she was holding.

“Hey, Star?” she asked, “Could I have one?”

Starla glanced at her; Clawdeen motioned to the butt in her hands.

“Oh, sure,” Starla said, fishing out her pack and offering one to her, “Here, let me light it for you.”

Clawdeen took it gratefully and placed it in her mouth, keeping it clenched between her teeth as Star reached over and sparked a flame at the tip with her fingers. Clawdeen leaned back to her place and took a drag, coughing as the smoke burned her throat and lungs. Her eyes watered. It made her mouth taste like she’d eaten charcoal.

She tried not to get into the habit, but as of lately, she found herself becoming so stressed that she couldn’t help but crave the little coffin nails once in a while, if just as a means to have a little bit of relief, even if they made her sick half the time.

Despite the nicotine already making her head start to hurt, Clawdeen took another drag and flicked the ashes onto the pavement.

Fucking Thursday nights, indeed.  

 


	6. Chapter 5: Owned

_(Now…)_

_At first, she saw nothing but empty blackness. Not necessarily like she was in darkness, but rather that everything was just…lacking. Like she’d been stuck within a black sheet of paper of an artist who’d had yet to draw in the background or add any detail._

_Then, a voice. “Clawdeen…”_

_Clawdeen paused. She turned around in the nothingness, searching for the source. It couldn’t be…_

_“M-Mom?” she called out. Her voice echoed through the void._

_“You were such a good girl. So sweet,” Harriet said from somewhere unidentifiable- as if it were coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once- sadness in her voice, “Where has my sweet girl gone?”_

_“Mom? Mom!” Clawdeen yelled, “W-Where are you? I can’t see you!”_

_“Now look at you,” her mother continued to narrate, “Now you’re just a whore.”_

_Clawdeen froze. To her those words come from her own mother- who had always had her back, encouraged her, guided her- stung her to her very core, as if she had fallen into a nest of bullet ants. Her chest tightened painfully. Tears pricked her eyes._

_“N-No, I-I’m not,” she countered, “Mom, t-they raped me! They-“_

_“You were so good, so pure…”_

_“I am, Mom, I still am!” Clawdeen exclaimed, tears flowing down her cheeks, “Where are you?! Mom, please, I’m scared! I don’t know where I am-“_

_“You are where a whore belongs,” her father’s voice sharply rang out, “You’re not my baby girl, you’re not the pup I raised. You’re nothing but a filthy slut…”_

_Clawdeen looked around, yellow eyes desperately searching for any sign of life. She held herself as she shook her head, “No…”_

_“It’s true,” she heard Howleen snap, “You’re just a whore…”_

_“A dirty slut,” Clawd said._

_“Who could ever love you after all you’ve done?” Clawdia inquired._

_Clawdeen put her hands over her ears. She shook her head rapidly, as if she could dispel the voices. She sunk to her knees, hysterical as she sobbed._

_“No, no, no, no!” she screamed._

_“Whore,” her family continued to shout, throwing out insults and spitting venomous words like a mantra, “Slut…useless…dirty…”_

_“No, no,” Clawdeen denied._

_Suddenly, their voices began to fade. Clawdeen’s head shot up, her eyes wide with fear._

_“No, please, please don’t leave me!” she begged despite their cruel words, “Please, come back, help me!”_

_“Such a good girl…” they continued to echo, “Just a whore now…”_

_“No, no, NO!”_

Clawdeen jerked awake, her eyes popping open as her senses came back to her.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She shook under the comforter, though it wasn’t any kind of reaction to the cold. She found herself panting slightly, her breath coming out shaky and shallow.

Blinking, she slowly lifted herself up on her elbow, looking around the room as she pulled the blanket down.

Clawdeen sighed. _It was just a dream,_ she told herself. She rubbed the skin between her eyes, trying to take deep breaths to still the racing of her heartbeat.

By now, she though she would’ve been used to the nightmares. They had become almost routine over the last couple of years, accompanying her almost every night and disrupting whatever little shut-eye she managed to get. However, her mind often still managed to find new and creative ways for terrorizing her even in the dreamworld.

Reaching for her phone, Clawdeen checked the time. It was a quarter before seven. Aran told her to be ready by nine for an early client, but as of now she’d still have an hour to herself before it came to close to him coming by.

“Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do,” Clawdeen said to herself, opting out of trying to go back to sleep. With the adrenaline from the nightmare still racing through her veins, she knew it’d be next to impossible. With that, she threw back to the covers and got up from the mattress, walking into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

Her stomach rumbled in delight at the sight of fresh food in the fridge as she opened it- courtesy of Aran bringing her groceries the night before, after two days of meager portions. Clawdeen licked her lips as she grabbed the small carton of cream cheese from the top shelf and a bagel from the bag that lay on the counter. After cutting the bagel and spreading some cream cheese on one side, she put the pieces back together and stuck them in her mouth, eating as she walked to the bathroom.

Running her hand under the faucet until the water was warm enough- or, at least as warm as you could get it in this dump of an apartment complex- Clawdeen turned on the shower. Removing her thin nightgown, she pulled the curtain back and stepped in under the spray.

After washing her hair, she grabbed the small bar of soap that rested on the edge of the tub and began to scrub her body.

She thought back to her dream; her hands movements slowed. Clawdeen looked down at the tile despondently.

What _would_ her family say, if they could see her now? To see her reduced to… _this?_

The words their dream selves echoed in her mind. Clawdeen held the bar of soap to her chest, feeling a sudden lump building in her throat.

_Whore…slut…despicable…_

They were words Aran had called her many times when he was mad, comments made by multiple clients or business associates who thought she needed to be put in her place. But to think that her family, her pack, would think the same….

Her tears mixed with the water from the shower as it poured over her face and ran down her cheeks. Wiping them away with the back of her hand, Clawdeen sniffed as she turned her focus back on getting clean.

After drying off, she wrapped herself in a towel and headed back into the living room to pick out her clothes, settling on a teal PVC skirt and a white lowcut top before she headed back to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup and pick out some jewelry.

She was in the middle of painting her toes to pass the time when she heard the familiar click of the door being unlocked. She sat up to watch as the knob turned, before the door flew open to reveal her master. Aran looked over at the couch as he stepped in.

“Aw, good, you’re already up,” he said.

Immediately, Clawdeen put the cap back on the nail polish bottle she’d been holding and set it down. She fanned her toes, trying to make them dry faster before she carefully slid on her shoes.

“Is everything okay, Daddy?” she asked, noticing how he went over to the counter and set down a small paper bag before he began to rustle through it.

Aran looked over his shoulder. “What? Oh, yeah, yeah. I just thought I’d drop by with a little surprise, considering how good you’ve been these past few weeks.”

He turned around and held out something to her, a big smile on his face. Clawdeen glanced down at his hand, surprised to see a small velvet box in his palm. She looked back up at Aran, confused.

“It’s for you,” he urged, moving his hand slightly forward in emphasis.

Clawdeen slowly reached for the box, pulling her hand back in hesitation; she spared the satyr a questioning peek, making sure it was really okay for her to take it. At Aran’s eager nod, she finally grabbed the box and opened it.

Her eyes widened to see a gold necklace lying inside, resting on a little white cushion as it sparkled even in the crappy lighting of the room. The pendant was in the shape of a heart, with a light blue colored gem resting in the middle and of which was surrounded by small diamonds.

“It’s aquamarine,” Aran said, “I thought it’d only be appropriate that it’d symbolize this month. You like it?”

Clawdeen didn’t answer right away, still stunned by the gift.

When she noticed Aran’s sudden frown of displeasure at her silence, she hastily answered, “It’s beautiful, Daddy, thank you. But…what’s happening this month?”

“You don’t remember?” Aran asked, “Why, it’s your anniversary, silly ghoul! Of your arrival- five years today!”

Clawdeen froze. Her grip tightened on the necklace’s box. _It…it couldn’t be that day already, could it?_ she thought.

As she counted in her head, though, the numbers didn’t lie. It was the sixteenth of March. Which officially did make it five years of her living here. 

Five years since Aran had bought her from Striggy and Gem.

Five years since she’d last seen her home, or her friends, or her family. Five long years of absolute hell…

“I know, time flies so fast,” Aran said happily, taking her silence for astonishment. He approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest.

“All this time, I’ve got to call you mine,” he said lowly, “My precious Selena…”

Clawdeen blushed despite herself, and held him back, the necklace box still grasped in her hand. “Daddy…”

Aran leaned forward and kissed her softly. Clawdeen returned it with a coo; his lips were soft against hers. It almost felt romantic, had she not known any better. As Aran pressed more eagerly, she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slide into her mouth, the two of them moaning as he pressed her more tightly to him.

Just as quickly, however, Aran broke away, a smile on his face as he turned her around. “Here, let me put it on,” he said.

Clawdeen handed him the box and stood still as he pulled the necklace out, before he draped it across her collarbone and began to fasten it.

“There,” he said happily, handing her his phone so she could look in the front-facing camera, “You like it?”

Clawdeen reached up and touched the necklace as she gazed at herself. It was beautiful, she admitted. Probably had to be at least a couple hundred dollars.

Its magnificence, however, was ruined by what the small blue stones represented.

A reminder that no matter what, she was trapped. That Aran had her under his complete and total control, and there was nothing she could do about it….

“I…I love it, Daddy,” she said as she turned, a strained smile on her face as she tried to mask her sorrow under a guise of joy, “You spoil me too much.”

“Aw, nonsense, I’m just treating my baby girl,” Aran said.

“In fact,” he added, his blue gaze looking down at her chest as he rested his hands on her hips, “I think a little celebration’s in order…”

He leaned forward and began kissing her again. Clawdeen groaned and slid her hands around his neck, a shiver going through her as he pulled the hem of her top up and reached underneath to stroke her stomach, his other hand slowly pulling down the zipper at the front of skirt.

Clawdeen pulled away briefly to ask, “D-Don’t we have to get going?”

“They didn’t get the money to me until fifteen minutes before midnight,” Aran countered, pushing her down onto the mattress, “They can wait.”

Later on, after Clawdeen had finished with the clients for that morning- a couple on their honeymoon (apparently they wanted to ‘see what is was like’ to have a girl) who were nice for the most part, and even gave Clawdeen some candy as a treat- she sat waiting in the hotel room as Aran talked with one of his associates on the phone outside on the balcony. She touched the necklace he’d given her earlier in thought, absently twirling the chain around.

It really had been five years, huh? She could hardly believe it. To think so much time had passed since she’d come here, that she’d been doing… _this_ for that long.

She thought back to the very first day she’d arrived in the city. When she met Aran for the first time. Clawdeen winced, unconsciously remembering the events of that day.

It was hands down probably one of the worst days of her unlife….

* * *

 

_(Then…)_

_The rough force of the van’s braking woke her from a restless sleep. Clawdeen lifted her head, staring at the back doors with puffy eyes as she heard the men come over to the other side as they got out, before the human man flung them open. The sky was dark behind him, the moon partially veiled by the clouds._

_“Wakey, wakey, wolfey,” he said_

_Reaching forward, the man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the van, making her stand upright as his companions closed the door. Clawdeen winced; they were in some sort of parking lot in an alleyway, and the rough gravel dug painfully into the soles of her feet._

_Undoing her restraints, the man shook her arm playfully, a smile on his face._

_“What’s with the long face, baby?” he asked, “Come on, you should be excited! You finally get to see your new home, meet your master!”_

_Clawdeen just glared at him out of the corner of her eye, lacking the energy to retort. She stood, looking out at either end of the alleyway as she shivered in the chill of the nighttime air._

_“Where the hell is he?” the human’s coworker questioned, “He said he’d be here by eleven on the dot.”_

_“Relax,” the human said, “He’ll be here. I’ve known Hoovestein for quite some time. He always keeps his promises. We’re a bit early anyway.”_

_As if on cue, a car turned into the alley and headed their way, its bright headlights bathing all of them in a cloak of white. As it pulled into the space a few feet down from the van, Clawdeen could see that it was a black Corvette. A newer model, from the looks of it, not a single scratch in sight and the paint job still glossy._

_Her and the other men stared as the car turned off and the driver’s side door opened, before whoever was in front seat climbed out and made his way around to the group. The human man let go of Clawdeen’s arm and started for the driver, holding his arms out affectionately._

_“Aw, there’s a beautiful face I haven’t seen for a while!” he greeted._

_“Sorry, buddy, I’m not for sale,” the driver said jokingly, embracing the brunette in a friendly hug, before the two broke apart and made their way over to where Clawdeen stood with the transporters._

_Clawdeen felt her stomach twist into a knot as she regarded the driver with apprehension. It didn’t take much to figure out who he was._

_This…this was the man who had paid Striggy to have her with him. The man she had been ‘sold’ to._

_Sold. Like she was a pair of shoes or some kind of exotic animal. Her ‘master’, as the human man had said._

_It was then she realized she was shaking badly. Clawdeen knew it wasn’t from the cold alone._

_As the two came to stand in front of her, the human gestured to her with a wave of his hand. “And here she is, all in one piece and ready for a good time!”_

_Clawdeen could feel the other’s eyes upon her. She diverted her gaze to the ground, unwilling to see how he was bound to be already undressing her in his mind as he got a look at her thin clothes, but as the transporter nudged her, she hesitantly trailed up to meet his face._

_He was a monster, just like her. A satyr, to be exact; his cloven hooves stood out from under his dark jeans, and a pair of white horns rose from his tousled strawberry blonde hair. His eyes were a bright crystal blue, sparkling with joy as they made contact with hers. He had a strong jaw and a scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, overall appearing only a few years or so older than her. Their eyes met, and his smile could’ve almost been kind._

_Clawdeen broke away to stare at the ground again, only to be stopped as the satyr reached up and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up. He stared at her, his bottom lip jutting out like he was analyzing her and trying to decide what he thought._

_“She’s a treat, ain’t she?” the human said, “Behaved all the way here. Didn’t even have to get rough with her.”_

_“That’s good,” the satyr said. He sneered, “I like my girls to have manners.”_

_Clawdeen recoiled at his leer, resisting the urge to spit in his face._

_The human man put a hand on her shoulder and gestured to the satyr. “Well, you’re in safe hands now, honey. Trust me, Aran here is a fair man. You be fair to him, he’ll be fair to you.”_

_He looked back up at the satyr. “I’d love to stay and chat man,” he explained, “But I got to get going. New shipment’s coming in tomorrow and I gotta be down at the dock, make sure there’s no pigs trying to scope out the area.”_

_“No worries man,” Aran said, “I’ll talk to you later.”_

_The two exchanged a friendly handshake before they departed. Aran threw an arm over Clawdeen’s shoulder as he started to turn, directing her towards his corvette._

_“Have a good time, Selena!” Clawdeen heard the human man call out behind her, “You’ll have fun. You’ll meet a LOT of friendly faces in no time!”_

_Clawdeen hunched shoulders up in defense. She forced herself not to turn around, not wanting him to see just how much he’d managed to get under her skin._

_“Selena?” she heard Aran repeat, “That’s a pretty name.”_

_Hesitantly, she looked up at him. He was smiling, his expression soft. Not at all like the other men who’d manhandled her prior to this._

_He grabbed her arm and started for the car. “Come with me,” he said._

_Every fiber of Clawdeen’s being was telling her to make a run for it. The street wasn’t far from her position, she could make it if she ran fast enough, possibly shift into her primordial form. The alleyway was between what looked to be apartment buildings- surely if she screamed, there was bound to be someone nearby who could hear her, right? If she shifted into her feral form, maybe she could make it and flag down a car to help her before the men caught up._

_And yet, she didn’t._

_For how strong the urge to try and just bolt then and there was, the fear of what they’d do to her if they caught up to her was far stronger._

_So, despite her instincts telling her otherwise, she obeyed and followed him to the Corvette._

_“Here, let me get that,” Aran insisted as grabbed the passenger door, holding it open for her. Clawdeen said nothing as she slid in, curling into the seat as he slammed it shut. He got in a second later and put his keys into the ignition, starting up the engine._

_For a few minutes, they rode in silence, the steady stream of rock music from the radio filling up the car. Clawdeen sat rigidly, her shoulders hunched up and her ands gripping the edge of her shorts tightly, her head lowered. She spared a few glances at the satyr out of the corner of her eye, thousands of different scenarios running through her mind of what he was planning on doing with her now. She had several questions, but the fear of what the answers may be held her back._

_Finally, Aran asked, “Are you hungry?”_

_Clawdeen blinked. “I…wha…”_

_“I said, are you hungry?” he repeated, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her, “I can’t imagine they kept you all that well fed while moving you halfway across the country in a moving truck.”_

_“Um…”_

_Right as she started to respond, Clawdeen was cut off by a loud gurgling that came from her stomach. They both looked down at her midsection, surprised. Clawdeen jumped slightly as Aran burst out laughing._

_“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said with a chuckle._

_He turned left at the intersection and made a right off the road, turning into the drive-thru of a fast food joint. He stopped in front of the small speaker of the menu and rolled his window down to order._

_“Yeah, I’ll have a medium number two with a Coke…” he said to the person on the other end._

_Clawdeen craned her neck, glancing over his shoulder to look out the window on his side. The clock on the dashboard read that it was a quarter past eleven, but a few cars were still in the parking lot. Looking out through the windshield, she could see into the windows of the restaurant. Inside, a group of teenagers sat at one corner, all of them dressed in high school sports uniforms as they shared each other’s food, while a rather bedraggled looking man sat away at the window, eating a burger and feeding fries to the dog that lay at his feet. An employee mopped the floor._

_If they hadn’t yet locked the doors, she could try and get their help. All she had to do was bang on the doors and they’d let her in, wouldn’t they? They could see her state of disarray and realize something was wrong. They could have the police there in seconds._

_Despite all that, though, Clawdeen found herself remaining seated as Aran drove up to the window to pay. As if she had been welded to the spot._

_‘Why are you just sitting there?! Hurry!’ her inner voice screamed at her. But she just…she couldn’t. It was as if all her courage and energy had been drained out of her by a giant vacuum._

_“Your total is nine forty-five,” the woman at the window remarked as she pushed it open. Aran smiled and handed her a card, before she handed it back with a bag of food._

_“Here,” he said as he turned and gave it to Clawdeen, who held it in confusion. He turned back and grabbed the drink the lady gave him, depositing it in the cup holder before putting his card back in his wallet._

_“Have a nice night!” the worker declared._

_Aran smiled at her. “Thanks, you too!” he said, before he began driving forward._

_As he pulled up to the exit, he turned to her._

_“You can start eating, you know,” he said, nodding at the bag in her lap, “Just don’t get crumbs on the seat.”_

_Clawdeen was in disbelief at the nonchalant attitude he’d been giving. The way he was talking to her was more reminiscent of a boyfriend with his ghoulfriend. That, and the fact he didn’t seem to care that they were out in the open, where Clawdeen could at any second try to escape. It was if the possibility hadn’t at all occurred to him, or if it had, he didn’t seem to care at all._

_However, she had no time to dwell on it, as her attention immediately turned to the greasy paper bag she was holding. Her stomach grumbled desperately as the smell of cooked food hit her nostrils. She opened the bag and looked in, finding a wrapped burger and a box of fries inside, of which lay around some grease-stained napkins._

_Tears actually came to her eyes at the contents. After having nothing more than cold mush by Gem and bland snack bars in the truck for however how long, she yearned for the taste of fresh, hot food again._

_“T-T-Thank you…” she said, her voice nearly cracking._

_Aran smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”_

_She took quick, big bites as she ate, desperate to have a proper meal in her belly after so long. It was just simple junk food, and she knew that the heavy grease and sugary cola was going to probably give her a stomachache, but in the moment Clawdeen felt that she might as well have been eating a heavenly dinner served by the gods. She took big gulps of her soda and stuffed fries into her mouth after every bite of burger, as if it would all disappear in front of her if she wasn’t fast enough._

_“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” Aran interjected as he reached over and placed a finger on her hand, which held some fries, lowering away from her mouth, “Slow down a little. You’ll make yourself sick if you eat too fast.”_

_Clawdeen stiffened; a brief fear flashed in her mind that he was going to take it away from her. Seeing as he made no move to, however, she calmed down and forced herself to eat slower._

_Seemingly satisfied with her pace, Aran watched her out of the corner of his eye, before he turned back to the road._

_“I know you’re probably scared right now, Selena,” he addressed her, “And I know you probably have a lot of questions about what’s going to happen. But you’ll okay. I’m going to take care of you.”_

_Clawdeen lowered her hands, staring at him._

_“I know you don’t believe that now, and that’s fine,” he continued, “But over time, you’ll see. I’ll be good to you. You just have to do some things for me. Do your work like you’re supposed to, don’t make a fuss, and everything will be just fine.”_

_“W-Work?” Clawdeen repeated._

_Aran nodded, “Work. What, you thought I was just going to keep you locked up forever? Nah, You’re gonna get out there and make me some money.”_

_Clawdeen hand’s tightened on the wrapper at the words. She had seen plenty of movies and gone to enough assemblies that she didn’t need to think much about what kind of ‘work’ he was suggesting. The sour taste of bile filled her mouth, and though she quietly continued chewing, she found she suddenly had lost her appetite._

_She jumped at the feeling of his hand sliding across the back of her neck. Aran gently stroked her nape with his thumb and forefinger, the gesture making Clawdeen’s skin prickle with goosebumps._

_“Yeah, I’ll take **real** good care of you, Selena,” he said again huskily, “You can trust me.” _

_‘Sure I can,’ Clawdeen thought sarcastically. She didn’t make any attempt to remove his hand, however, allowing him to continue stroking her skin as she resumed her stiff position in the seat, her head lowered as she forced her eyes to remain focused on the road._

_They remained driving for about half an hour, before Aran turned left at a roundabout that took them through a neighborhood, and after turning left at the roundabout, pulled into the lot of what looked to be an apartment complex._

_Pulling into a parking spot, Aran set the parking brake on and turned off the engine. He nodded at Clawdeen, before jerking his head to his side._

_“Get your trash,” he said, climbing out of the car._

_As she shut the door, Clawdeen took a moment to observe the building. It looked in desperate need of repair, the red paint on the doors flaking off and graffiti covering the sides. Clawdeen thought it looked like a motel that’d be seen in a low budget horror movie- the typical worn down resting area that the poor unsuspecting couple would check into, only to discover throughout the night that there were murderous stalkers or snuff-film makers occupying the room next door._

_She looked to the left as a car pulled up next to them. A weretiger got out of the front seat, slamming the door angrily as the passenger and right back doors opened._

_“Fucking cheap-ass,” Clawdeen heard him mutter under his breath, “’Honorary member’ my ass. Like I’ll ever go back to that shithole.”_

_He raised his head as he went to walk towards the complex, stopping when his eyes landed on Clawdeen. He took a step back, his thick brows furrowing with confusion._

_“What the hell…?” he asked. Clawdeen shrank back under his harsh gaze, his bright golden eyes angry and hard._

_“You don’t look too happy,” she heard Aran comment as he came around the other side. Clawdeen tried not to recoil as he slid his arm around her shoulders._

_The weretiger shook his head in annoyance. “Just those assholes at the Drunken Shipwreck trying to short-charge me.”_

_He looked back at Clawdeen. “Who’s this?”_

_“Oh, this is just my new ghoul, Selena!” Aran exclaimed, squeezing Clawdeen’s shoulder almost affectionately, “Remember, the one I was telling you about the other night? Well, Ramirez finally came through for me.”_

_The weretiger just stared at her, his mouth twisting into a frown. Clawdeen shifted on her feet, feeling small against his almost burning glare._

_Finally, he just turned with a scoff. “She don’t look like much. Probably wasn’t worth the price.”_

_“Oh, yeah, like you’re one to talk when those two are the best you got,” Aran replied snarkily, waving his hand at the car._

_It was then Clawdeen noticed the other two occupants of the car, both of whom watched the exchange quietly. She caught each of their gazes; the one who’d been sitting in the passenger seat was a Chupacabra. She regarded Clawdeen with an expression the werewolf couldn’t quite read, her head tilted like she was trying to analyze her. Her amaranth eyes were a stark contrast against her bright cyan hair and scaly green skin, looking almost blood red in the dark of the night._

_Her companion, a baobhan sith with pale white skin and curly blonde hair, gave Clawdeen a strained, nervous smile in a possible show of sympathy, though Clawdeen didn’t miss the way her dark green eyes kept sparing glances at the weretiger, like she was afraid of any sudden movements he’d make._

_They were both dressed rather provocatively, their skintight dresses almost a second skin on their bodies and their chests looking like they were about to pop out with the amount of cleavage that was showing. Clawdeen felt a pit in her stomach as she quickly realized why they must’ve been dressed like that._

_The weretiger, meanwhile, brushed off Aran’s comment. “Whatever,” he said, “Just make sure she doesn’t try any funny business.”_

_With that, he turned to the Chupacabra and baobhan sith. “You two, get going.”_

_“Yes, Daddy,” the women said in unison, before they quickly turned towards the apartment complex and started hurrying up the stairs. The weretiger followed after them without another word; Clawdeen grimaced as she watched him give a hard push to the Chupacabra and muttered a ‘hurry up’ as they went up, the Chupacabra giving a timid ‘s-sorry’ in reply before she picked up the pace._

_She suddenly felt Aran clutch her arm, before he started dragging her towards the stairs himself._

_“Hurry up,” he said. He took the trash from her and stuffed it in the garbage can, before pushing her up the steps._

_He directed her up to the third floor, where he turned the both of them and pulled her towards a door that lay at the end on the right face of the building. Aran pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and put one in the lock, turning it with a ‘click’._

_Pushing the door open, he gently nudged Clawdeen to go in. Hesistantly, the werewolf stepped into the darkened room; already, she could smell some kind of unpleasant odor from somewhere._

_“Aaaand, welcome to your new humble abode,” Aran said warmly as he flicked on the lights, closing the door behind him._

_Clawdeen glanced around, taking in the living quarters. It was a modestly sized one-bedroom space, with a kitchen over at the left and a small bathroom and closet in the hallway. There was a rather ripped-up sofa pushed against the wall with a coffee table in front of it, and a bare mattress on the floor by the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room with a tangle of blankets on top. Next to it lay a few piles of clothes that were a variety of colors and fabrics.  The white walls were bare, save for a few nails and some dried stains of God-knew-what. The carpet was threadbare and discolored in several areas._

_It was clear that whoever the landlord or landlady was, they didn’t seem to care much for the upkeep of their building, nor presumably for whatever happened in it. Which, Clawdeen thought, could only mean they were probably in on this whole scheme as well…_

_“Cozy, ain’t it?” Aran said, sidling up next to her, “And it’s all yours. You’re lucky; I know some guys who make all their girls share a room, even if it means seven all cramped in.”_

_The statement made Clawdeen want to laugh. Yeah, she was ‘sooo’ lucky- she was stuck in a dump thousands of miles from home from a guy who wanted to pimp her out, but hey, at least she had her own room, right?_

_The reality of the situation, however, dispelled whatever attitude she may have wanted to put on, and instead made fear hit her like a giant tidal wave. She whipped around to face the satyr, her eyes wide with a silent, desperate plea for help._

_“M-M-Mr. Hoovestein,” she started._

_“Call me Aran,” he replied._

_“A-Aran,” Clawdeen repeated, knotting her fingers into the hem of her shirt, “P-Please, don’t do this. I-I’m not Selena. My name’s Clawdeen Wolf, I’m only sixteen, and I’m from Oregon. M-My pack’s the New Salem branch-“_

_“Shhhh,” Aran said, moving towards her to embrace her._

_He brought her to his chest. Clawdeen resisted, pushing back against his chest to look him in the eye as she continued to try and get through to the satyr._

_“P-Please, please let me go,” she said, “I-I have a family, t-t-they have to be looking for me. I promise, I won’t tell anyone! I won’t say anything, please just let me leave. P-Please, I…I want to go home.”_

_“This is your home,” Aran said softly._

_Clawdeen shook her head, “N-No…”_

_“It is,” the satyr insisted, “I know, it’s scary at first, but you’ll get used to it over time. Plenty of the girls have._

_“Besides, what would be in it for me if I just let you go?” he asked, “I paid a lot of money to get you here, and if just let you up and walk out, then that’s a fortune I just pissed away. Now, does that sound fair?”_

_“I…I…” Clawdeen stammered._

_She looked in his eyes, trying to find some little hint of getting through to him. To her dismay, there was nothing in Aran’s pale blue gaze that indicated that he was planning on changing his mind._

_“Exactly,” Aran said, like her inability to answer was enough, “Now, please stop crying. It’s starting to get little grating.”_

_He rubbed her back gently, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of her shirt to stroke her skin. He spared a look down her front, before they came back up to meet Clawdeen’s as he smiled, his eyes darkened with desire._

_“Now,” he said, leaning in entirely too close to her face, “I think we should break the ice and know each other a bit better…”_

_He went to kiss her. Clawdeen pulled her head back, turning her head to the side to avoid his lips. She pushed against his shoulders, only to feel him tighten his hold._

_“No, baby, don’t fight me,” Aran said, trying to catch her mouth, “Just let me do this.”_

_“N-No,” Clawdeen whimpered, resisting, “No, s-stop, please!”_

_Tears came to her eyes as she attempted to pull herself free. The memory of Striggy and Gem’s house and all the men who’d had their way with her burned at the forefront of her mind, making phantom pains and sensations course all down her body- the feel of their rough hands bruising her, burning her, choking her; the bitter taste of them on her tongue as they forced themselves down her throat, the agonizing pain between her legs and buttocks, the harsh pressure of their teeth as they sucked and nipped at her shoulders and collarbone…_

_“ **Don’t** fight me,” Aran restated with a hiss as he tightened his grip on her. Clawdeen continued to struggle, shaking her head rapidly as she cried and tried to yank herself out of his arms. _

_“No, no, please!” she began to yell, “God, no! Please!”_

_“Stop!”_

_She stumbled backward as Aran suddenly let her go, only to let out a cry as she felt him suddenly shove her against the wall, the back of her head slamming against it with a dull thud. She yelped as she felt his hand grab her by the throat, her hands instantly shooting to grab his wrist as she stared up at him fearfully._

_Anger now filled Aran’s eyes as he glared at her, making his eyes seem even paler. His hand around her neck wasn’t enough to cut off her air, but still applied enough pressure to make her jugular hurt, while his other hand grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the wall._

_“Selena, I am trying to be nice to you, but I can get rough if I have to,” he threatened, “And believe me, I know **exactly** where to make it hurt…” _

_The threat behind the words was clear. Instantly, Clawdeen felt whatever little fight remained in her fly out._

_“N-N-No,” she begged, “I’ll-I’ll be good.”_

_“Good,” Aran said, taking a step back as he released her, “Then shut up and quit making a fuss.”_

_He cupped her cheeks and leaned in again. This time, Clawdeen didn’t fight, only sobbing as he swept her up in a rough kiss. His lips were dry and hot, hers nearly bruising as he nipped and pressed against them. He took the chance when she tried to breathe to slip his tongue in, sweeping against hers in an attempt to get her to respond back._

_Clawdeen grimaced against the feel of the wet muscle, her eyes squeezing shut as she awkwardly tried to maneuver her own tongue in an attempt to please him. While she by no means was new to such intimate actions- she had her own share of make-out sessions with a boy or two at a few parties, and a few of those had even delved into fondling- it was an entirely different experience when she was being forced into it._

_Her actions seemed to do the trick, though, as she heard Aran moan. He tightened his clutch on her hips as he pressed his mouth further against hers, before Clawdeen felt him tug at the hem of her shirt._

_The two broke apart as he pulled it over her head. Clawdeen reluctantly raised her arms up, allowing him to take it off her body and discard it on the floor. She immediately attempted to cover herself, only for Aran to grab her hands and pull them away._

_“No, baby,” he commanded softly, “Let me see you.”_

_Clawdeen felt her face grow hot with humiliation. She closed her eyes again, all too aware of the feeling of him staring as he ogled her naked torso, the smell of him getting hard potent in the air. A small sob escaped her as he reached up and started kneading her breasts._

_She jerked as his hand slid down her shorts and underwear to cup her between her legs. He began to rub her there, causing Clawdeen to feel a sudden twinge in her belly. She bit her lip as she realized, with great shame, that she was starting to get aroused._

_“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Aran murmured haughtily, “You like it when Daddy strokes your pussy like that, huh? You’re so naughty. You’re Daddy’s little slut, aren’t you? Say it.”_

_“I…I’m your little slut,” Clawdeen repeated._

_“Yeah, you are,” he smirked, reaching up to stroke her bottom lip with his thumb._

_He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her down to her knees. He grabbed her wrist and placed her palm over his groin, forcing her to fondle him as he moved her palm over the dent in his jeans. Clawdeen grimaced at her position; she had a good idea of what was about to happen._

_Aran let go of her hand as he moved to undo his fly._

_“If you bite me, I’ll rip out your fangs,” he warned, leaving his pants undone to expose the large bulge in his undershorts._

_Clawdeen swallowed hard. She choked down the bile that threatened to come up and slowly looked up, taking a deep breath before she slowly reached forward. Her hands were shaking as she grasped his waistband and reached in, enclosing her hand around his erection and pulling it out. She stared at it, struggling to open her mouth as she leaned towards it._

_Aran’s hand came down on the back of her head and pushed her forward, his fingers twisting in her hair. Tears rolling down her cheeks, Clawdeen took a deep breath- it came out shaky as she forced her head forward and put her lips over his cock._

_“Easy, breathe through your nose,” Aran directed as he kept his hold on her hair, forcing her head to bob back and forth as she gagged on him, “That’s it- oh, fuck, just like that.”_

_Clawdeen closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds he made or how he felt in her mouth. She rested her hands on the front of his legs as she continued to try and pleasure him, praying that it would be over quickly. It was hard, though, with Aran’s ever increasing shouts and curses._

_Suddenly, he yanked on her hair and pulled her away from him. Clawdeen looked up in confusion, only to let out a yell of surprise as he dived down and picked her up, before promptly dropping her on her side on the mattress_

_Clawdeen scrambled onto her back, only to lay back in fear as he crawled on top of her. He yanked her shorts down, leaving her completely exposed to him as he sat back on his knees to rid himself of his drawers._

_“P-Please, no,” she sniffled, holding her arms up against her chest defensively._

_Aran smiled and stroked her hair in a mimic gesture of affection. “Just relax, let me do the work. I promise, I’ll make you feel really good.”_

_It brought no comfort to Clawdeen. She wept quietly as he took her on the mattress, the air growing hot and stuffy around her as he pressed himself to her. Aran panted as he moved above her, his teeth grit as he relished in the werewolf in him._

_“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he muttered._

_Clawdeen only bawled, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to think of things that would distract her from what was going on. She tried to imagine a mental happy place for her to go, some way she could tune out everything._

_She let out a whine as he felt him reach down and begin stroking her again, the pads of his fingers teasing her tender and sensitive flesh. The tight, coiling feeling in her stomach returned, much to her mortification. Clawdeen tried to will it away, tried to herself that it didn’t feel good at all, but her body betrayed her; after so long of such rough treatment and abuse, it yearned for whatever pleasant sensations it was given. She became wet from the satyr’s touch, despite the shame and horror she felt from it._

_“S-S-Stop,” she tried objecting, only to become overwhelmed by the heat that was building in her loins._

_“Come for me,” Aran said, pressing harder against her clitoris, “Come for me, Selena. Come for your Daddy.”_

_Clawdeen cried as she felt herself release, hating herself for the way her voice rose in volume from the pleasure that rippled out from the center of her core. She felt Aran climax a few seconds later, the satyr squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed their foreheads together._

_“Gah, holy f…shit,” he gasped as he came down from his high. He pushed himself up and climbed off Clawdeen, leaving the werewolf to curl up into a ball on the mattress, hugging herself as she cried._

_Aran stood up and pulled his pants up, sparing a glance at her over his shoulder as he buckled his belt. He just shrugged, before he gathered up his keys and his wallet and started for the door._

_“There’s a showcase going on tomorrow with some of the other girls,” he said, “So be ready by ten.”_

_He didn’t wait for a response as he opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him. A moment later, Clawdeen heard the lock turn. She paid it no mind, not having moved from her balled up position._

_She felt disgusting. She wanted to bathe and scrub her skin raw, she wanted to tear her entire pelt from her body._

_“H-H-Hey, a-are you there? Can you hear me?”_

_Clawdeen froze. She raised her head, looking around the apartment. There was no sign of anybody there; the blinds on the windows had been drawn, blocking her view to the outside._

_“H-Hello?” she called out hesitantly._

_“Hi, over here!” the voice called again. It was feminine, with the slightest bit of an accent to it._

_Clawdeen looked over her shoulder. It seemed to have been coming from somewhere on the far wall, from…the vent?_

_She got up and crawled over to the little air vent, bending down so she was almost level with it. Speaking slowly, she asked into it, “Is…is someone there?”_

_“It’s me,” the voice said again, “You saw me earlier. The girl in the green dress, remember?”_

_She thought back to the short baobhan sith she’d seen get out of the weretiger’s car. “I…I do.”_

_“I just…I-I-I just wanted to say,” the baobhan sith stuttered, “It’s…its going to be okay. M-Me and the other girls will help you around, y-you know, learn the ropes and everything.”_

_Clawdeen her heart sink. “I don’t want to ‘learn the ropes’,” she said bitterly, “I want to go home!”_

_“I know,” the baobhan sith said sadly, “I…I do too.”_

_“Kimber,” a secondary voice- this one also female- sharply called from the other side of the vent, this one sounding a bit farther away, “What are you doing?! You know we’re not supposed to do shit like this!”_

_Clawdeen listened as the baobhan sith stammered out a response, “I-I-I know, I j-just thought she needed some company, s-since it’s her first night…”_

_“You have to be careful, though!” the second voice scolded, “You know how James will act if he catches us talking to the others like this!”_

_“Please,” Clawdeen spoke up, “Please, you have to help me! I-I don’t belong here! I was kidnapped! I…I was raped! Please, you have to get me out of here!”_

_The two girls were silent. Then, the baobhan sith replied._

_“We…we can’t.”_

_“Please,” Clawdeen sobbed, “I don’t want to be here! I have a family, t-they’re probably out looking for me, wondering where I am! I-I need to be with them!”_

_“Nobody wants to be here,” she heard the second voice mutter, “But Kimber’s right. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. The guys have eyes everywhere to make sure we’re not up to anything, and we have enough trouble keeping our own pimp off our backs._

_“We… we’ll try and help you out, though, give you some tips on this type of thing. I know it’s overwhelming but…you get used to it in time.”_

_It wasn’t a reassuring answer. Clawdeen just bawled; she was filled with grief at their answers. She should’ve known better, but the defeat in their voices cut deeply._

_“We…we have to go,” the baobhan sith said with regret, “W-we’ll see you tomorrow, at the showcase.”_

_With that, she heard them both walk away from the vent._

_It was as if the bells of defeat were ringing through the air. Clawdeen sobbed harder as the realization of her surroundings and situation settled on her like a blanket made of the heaviest metal. Her cries became louder, more painful. She coughed as she struggled to breathe, the air in her lungs coming out as panicked heaves. It was too much, all too much…_

_Opening her eyes, Clawdeen looked up at the ceiling. She darted her gaze around the room._

_“Help me!” she called out in desperation, “PLEASE! Someone help me! PLEASE, I WANT TO GO HOME!”_

_Silence greeted her back._

_“HELP!” she screamed, getting to her feet and running to the door. She yanked on the doorknob, twisting it left and right as she tried to force the door open, but it wouldn’t budge._

_Giving up, Clawdeen resorted to banging on it, screaming against it. “SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF HERE! PLEASE, LET ME OUT!”_

_She pulled away from the door and started grabbing at random items on the coffee table, throwing them around the room in an almost manic fashion as she continued to shout._

_“LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!” she screeched, “GET ME OUT OF HERE! I WANT TO GO HOME!”_

_She grabbed at the comforter at the foot of the mattress and threw it to the ground, before she started grabbing at the pile of clothes next to it and angrily began to rip them at them, tearing the fabric._

_“GET ME OUT!” she yelled, “LET ME OUT! GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”_

_Her voice went hoarse. A lump appeared in her throat, cutting off her shouts with a thick cry. Clawdeen sank to the floor. She hugged herself tightly, the cold air making her aware of the fact that she was still naked._

_“Let me out,” she said to no one, weeping, “I wanna go home. I wanna go home….”_

* * *

 

Clawdeen felt her hands clench on the necklace’s pendant as she thought back to that night. She cringed at the memory of the events.

That had been the first time Aran had raped her. She remembered how, when she finally had a clear enough mind to use the bathroom and shower, she had rubbed the soap that was there into her skin so hard that she had made herself bleed from irritation. Even then, it still hadn’t felt like enough, as if the filth was far more than skin deep. Like she could never be clean.

She scoffed at the thought. _And that night, I thought I’d been through it all,_ she thought to herself.

Little did she know at the time, that it was only the beginning of the absolute worst to come.

* * *

 

_Clawdeen groaned in discomfort and rolled onto her side, grimacing as she failed to find any relief in the position. The old mattress was hardly what you could call luxury- the worn out springs gave it a lumpy texture that made it feel more like she was sleeping on a pile of stalagmites, making her back ache as she tossed and turned to try and get comfortable under the moth-eaten blankets._

_Her breakdown the night before had sapped her of all energy, but she had only had a few hours of sleep- brought upon after she spent what had to be a good hour crying into her pillow- before she had been awoken by pain in her back, which ached from the uneven alignment under her._

_Plus, it was cold. Despite the bathroom being absolutely disgusting, she had gone ahead and bathed, refusing to fall asleep with her and Aran’s mess clinging to her legs. There was no blow dryer, though, so though she tried to towel off as best as she could, the dampness of her hair and fur caused the freezing air to seep in, chilling her whole body even under the blankets._

_Giving up on her attempts to get comfortable, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She listened to the various noises going on around her- other tenants bustling about in the rooms next to and underneath her, the faint squealing of tires as cars drove down the roads outside, the slight creak of the springs._

_Her mind drifted back to the night before._

_Clawdeen swallowed as she felt a few stray tears start to run down the sides of her head._

_Aran had told her he was going to ‘take care’ of her. That he was going to be ‘good’ to her. Before he had fucked her right on this very mattress._

_She knew it wouldn’t be the only time, either._

_Her chest tightened. She remembered Aran’s words to her before he left last night. Something about a showcase and how he wanted her to be ready for it. Based on the clothes piled up next to her head- all feminine and tight or revealing- she had a good idea of what this ‘showcase’ entailed._

_Clawdeen covered her mouth, trying to smother her sobs._

_Was this really what her life had come to? To be given off to random men to do what they pleased with her body like she was some sort of blowup doll?_

_What about the people back home? Were they still looking for her? Did anyone even care that she was gone anymore, if they even had noticed in the first place?_

_Before she could further dwell in her misery, her ears twitched at the sound of someone outside putting a lock into the door. Clawdeen shot up to a sitting position, watching as the door opened to reveal Aran. Behind him outside, the sky was navy blue, the edge of the horizon lightening to a dusty pink._

_He gave her a lookover as he shut the door behind him with his foot. In his hands were several plastic bags, some of which had produce sticking out at the top._

_“I brought you some groceries,” he said as he trekked across the apartment to the kitchen, “I figured you probably weren’t too keen on moldy milk and whatever the hell was left here by the last people.”_

_Clawdeen didn’t respond. She just eyed him warily as he opened the fridge and began placing items from the bags within._

_He stood up for a moment and turned around, placing a few products on the counter. Clawdeen could see by their labels they included deodorant, shampoo, body wash, and body spray._

_“For you,” he said, pointing to them, “We need to get going soon, so take these and get the shower running.”_

_“I-I took a shower last night,” Clawdeen refuted._

_Aran smirked, “Good! Then that means we can get out of here sooner.”_

_He gestured to the clothes pile. “There should be a few garments in there that fit you relatively well. So pick those out and get dressed, fix your hair, whatever you girls like to do get ready in the morning.”_

_Clawdeen didn’t move. She just stared at the satyr owlishly, tiredness preventing her from getting up. Aran furrowed his brows._

_“Now,” he added in, a bit more force in his tone._

_It was enough to send a spike of fear into Clawdeen’s heart. She threw off the blankets and knelt by some of the clothes; she had no idea what fit her and what didn’t, but she picked through them and held various items up to her to try and gauge their size._

_After deciding on a few things, she stood up and started for the bathroom. She kept her head down as she passed Aran, avoiding his gaze as she sheepishly tried to pull down the singlet she’d dressed in last night over her underwear. She tried to ignore the way he smirked as he watched her._

_Standing against the counter, Aran crossed his arms as he waited for her._

_“I know there’s not much here right now, but at least try and make yourself look presentable,” he said, “A little effort goes a long way.”_

_The door opened a few seconds later. He raised his head, his eyes brightening as he took her in._

_Clawdeen stood there, self-consciously tugging on the edge of her jacket. Trying to make do with her best guesses for size, she’d picked out a pair of gold shorts and a low-cut cream and purple tank top with gold accents. She’d paired them with a grey bolero jacket and some gold heels that had bows on the toes. She didn’t have anything to do anything special with her hair, so she opted for putting her hair in two small space buns, while she let the rest of it cascade down her back._

_It seemed to be enough for Aran, as his expression instantly lit up with delight._

_“Well, well,” he remarked as he strolled towards her, “No makeup or earrings, and you still manage to clean up better than most girls I’ve seen here.”_

_Clawdeen fidgeted with her sleeve. “Does this please you?” she asked._

_“It sure does,” Aran replied as he reached out and slid his arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him._

_“I might have a have a go at you myself if you keep it up,” he murmured to her._

_Clawdeen felt her gut start to twist with anxiety at the thought of him forcing himself on her again, but she tried not to show her fear, instead giving him a watery smile as she tried to play along._

_“M-Maybe…” she said, unsure of what exactly to say. She didn’t exactly want to encourage the action, but it was clear by this point she didn’t get much of a say of what she did or didn’t want to do anymore._

_She felt her heart leap in her chest as Aran suddenly frowned, his face becoming pinched with displeasure._

_“Okay, that’s not going to work,” he said, “How are guys going to want you when you look like you’re about to go to the guillotine? That’s not sexy. Come on, give me a real smile.”_

_‘Good. The less sick fucks who touch me, the better,’ Clawdeen thought, but held her tongue tried to improve on her expression._

_“No,” Aran refuted, “Try harder. No, not that hard. Nope. Seriously, Selena, haven’t you ever smiled before? You’re supposed to be happy, like you just had the best day of your life!’_

_“Well, maybe when I actually have a reason to be happy…” Clawdeen muttered before she could stop herself._

_Her eyes widened. She brought her hand up to her mouth in disbelief. She looked up at Aran, gauging his reaction. He looked bewildered for a second, before, to her panic, his eyes flashed with anger and his jaw tightened._

_“Oh, so we want to be a smartass, do we?” he asked with a bit of an edge._

_Clawdeen felt her ears lower as she backed down. “I-I wasn’t-“_

_He roughly grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him._

_“Whatever little attitude you’re trying to have, I suggest you drop it immediately,” he warned, “Don’t start thinking because I’ve been patient means you get to start going around being cute with me.””_

_“I-I’m sorry,” Clawdeen said._

_“You better be,” Aran replied, dropping his hand. He grabbed her wrist and started leading her to the door. “Now come on, I hate being late.”_

_He locked the door behind him as he ushered her out onto the walkway of the apartment complex, before directing her down the stairs to where his car was parked. Clawdeen stood outside the passenger side door, her fingers flexing on the handle._

_Around her, she could hear the neighborhood getting up. Distantly, she could hear the sound of crying babies coming from some room or house nearby, as well as the steady engines of trucks and cars strolling by on the street. Across the street, there was a small little building with hand painted signs that promoted slogans for food whose doors wafted the smell of food from inside. It was lighter out now, and the sun coated everything in a bright glare of light as it rose from the east._

_Aran had said they were leaving around ten. By that time, most people had to be awake, either for work, school, or for running errands. Even somewhere like this, where a lot of buildings were boarded up and trash covered the streets, had to have a good number of folks going about their day, who’d probably pass by this place once or twice. If she were able to kick off her heels and get a good start…_

_“What are you waiting for? Get in,” Aran snapped as he pulled his door open._

_Clawdeen immediately flung the door open and climbed inside, settling in the passenger seat like she did last night._

_“Now, I’m going to guess that you’re not exactly experienced in this kind of thing, so let me lay out a few ground rules for you so you get an idea of what to expect,” Aran started as he began to drive. Clawdeen sat silently and listened._

_“Firstly, whenever a guy picks you, you do whatever he says. If he wants a blowjob, give him a blowjob. He wants to do it doggy style, you get on your knees. Hell, if he’s just some loser who wants some company and have you listen while he cries, then do it,” he explained, “Secondly, don’t do anything that might get them upset. You’re there to entertain them, okay? I don’t care if you think he’s ugly, or he’s kind of an asshole, whatever. You’re there to fuck and get money._

_“And third,” he added, “At least try to act like you’re interested. Remember, you’re there to put on a show for them. Give them something to show them why you’re the one out of all those other bitches they should choose. I know, it’s going to be hard to be enthusiastic if the guy looks like he just crawled out of the sewers or he’s got an annoying laugh, but you have a quota to meet, and the more guys you get in less time, the easier it’ll be on the both of us.”_

_He looked at her. “Got it?”_

_“Y-Yes,” Clawdeen answered._

_Just then, a small plinking sound arose from Aran’s phone, from where it rested in the cup holder. Its screen lit up, displaying a notification of a new e-mail. Clawdeen’s gaze slid to it in curiosity._

_Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the date that was displayed underneath the time._

_“It’s the sixteenth?” she asked, though it was more to herself than to Aran._

_He nodded. “Yep,” he replied, “Of March.”_

_Clawdeen faced forward, her body slumping into the seat in shock. Her mouth fell open, and she gaped at the views out the window blankly._

_Today was March sixteenth._

_The day she’d met up with Gem had been on February nineteenth._

_She’d been gone for almost a whole month._

_She didn’t know what to be more astonished at, the fact that everything- Gem’s house, the transport in the vans, being brought here- had occurred in only a month, or the fact that already, it had been a month._

_A thought suddenly occurred to her that made her nauseated._

_In the span of that one month, she’d have to have been raped by at least a dozen men, if not more, depending on how many had taken her while she was knocked out. Aran included._

_Clawdeen blinked as her eyes watered at the fact._

_Only a month ago, she was in school, where her biggest stressor had been the test in Mr. Hack’s class that she wasn’t sure she passed and the fact that state exams were coming up. Spring formal was going to be in a few months, but already she and the group had been talking about what they were going to wear and who was going to be going with who. Clawdeen remembered how she had considered making her own dress to try and gauge her skill level with heavier, more delicate fabrics._

_And now that had all been stolen from her._

_She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand, not wanting for Aran to see her in such a state. If he was going to make her do this kind of stuff, she had to be strong._

_After twenty-five minutes or so, Aran finally took the exit and drove through the light, before they came to a stop in front of a small, dark painted buiding. Clawdeen looked out her window; it looked pretty sketchy, somewhat isolated from the other stores and businesses nearby. Bright neon lights lined the edges of the roof and glowed from the windows, though the color was a bit muted due to the sun. On the far right window, she could see a neon sign that had pictures of women raising their legs on either side of it. In fluorescent orange, it displayed the message “THE FANTASY ROOM: TABLE DANCE, LIVE SHOWS”._

_Clawdeen cringed as she realized they were standing outside a strip club._

_“Don’t forget, you want to sweeten up for him,” Aran said as he led her inside by the arm, “So don’t be afraid to compliment him once in a while. Tell him’s he’s got nice eyes, act like he’s got the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. You know, stroke his ego a little. Guys eat that shit right up._

_“And,” he stopped her right as they got into the entrance, “Remember to smile. You’re a girl, not a robot.”_

_Clawdeen pinched herself to avoid mouthing off again. Instead, she gave him a soft smile, trying her best to make it look sincere._

_“See, that’s better,” Aran said, “See, I knew you were a fast learner.”_

_With that, he led her inside._

_Clawdeen squinted as they made their way to the main hall. The bright electric colors of the lights hurt her eyes. She could hear the steady hum of people conversing somewhere down to the right, which quickly became louder as they approached. They turned the corner, revealing a large open room with a bar at the right and several small stages and dance poles scattered throughout. Despite it still being rather early in the morning, there were already at least thirty or so people there, most of which were men. There was low music playing, the bass so strong she could feel it vibrate through the floor under her._

_Some of them turned towards them at the sound of her heels on the floor. Clawdeen stiffened as their eyes fell upon her and instantly lit up with lust. She paused, only for Aran to pull her along, making her stumble. As they made their way past the bar, she tried not to focus on the way she could feel their gazes linger on her._

_Aran dragged her to a door that lay beyond the far wall and flung it open, pushing her in as it swung shut behind them. It was a small back room, most likely the dressing area for the strippers who worked here; vanities sat in front of the wall-length mirror and there was a row of lockers up against the other one. Gathered in the middle of it was a small group of people, all of whom turned their heads in the direction of the duo. The three men all stood around, talking amongst themselves, while the girls all sat silently on the couch. Like Clawdeen, they were dressed in clothes that were all varying degrees of provocative._

_Clawdeen recognized the chupacabra and baohbhan sith as being among them, while the weretiger stood with his arms crossed, his expression sour as he grumbled with an alligator hybrid that leaned up against the back of the couch. The girls spared looks at Clawdeen, before they quickly lowered their heads._

_“Gentlemen,” Aran greeted, scanning their faces, “Everything ready to go?”_

_“Almost,” the alligator said, “We’re just waiting on Bryce. Seems like he had a last minute appointment or something he had to take care of.”_

_“Just like that asshole to keep us all waiting around,” the weretiger muttered, “We might as well start without him.”_

_“Ah, they can wait,” the gator countered, “If they’re willing to drive all the way down from Fairfax, they can afford to hold on for five more minutes.”_

_He walked over to them and handed Aran a badge. Aran took it and turned to Clawdeen, grabbing her shirt to pin it to her lapel._

_“Okay, so when the time comes, you and the rest of these ladies are going to stand in a line in front of the club,” he explained, “If a guy wants to have a turn with you, he’s going to alert the waiter to your number, and then when he pays me, you go with him. That clear?”_

_Clawdeen nodded slowly._

_“Good. For now, though, you just take a seat right over there with the others, and they’ll let us know when everything’s ready.”_

_He nudged her with a small hand on her back over to the couch, where he sat her down near the armrest, before he immediately turned his attention to the alligator, the two starting up a conversation about money or something._

_Clawdeen sat there for a few seconds, before she glanced out of her peripheral. The other girls didn’t seem to be paying her any mind, their posture looking as stiff as hers probably was. Slowly, she turned her head to take a look at each of them. None of them glanced in her direction, all keeping their eyes forward or down in their laps as they messed with their nails._

_There were five other girls in all, all of them different monster species. On the other side of the couch was a sea monster, who looked rather bored with everything as she sat resting her cheek on her hand on the armrest. She was very beautiful, with light turquoise skin that glittered under the dim lights of the dressing area and light magenta eyes that were framed with thick eyelashes. Her hair was a royal blue color that was streaked with bright yellow and fell over her shoulders and down her back in thick curls._

_To her right sat a brunette siren; the latter sat up straight and nervously fumbled with her necklace as she watched the door warily. She had a beauty mark high up on her right cheek, under her eyes, of which were a light gray color. Her sharp talons were painted a wine color, and rainbow-colored feathers lined her arms and wings._

_The girl in the middle looked, at the first glance, like she was completely human. However, as she looked closer, Clawdeen noticed that her ears were pointed and covered in fur, like that of a wolf’s. Her arms and legs, from her elbows and calves, were also covered in light grey fur, and her toes and fingernails were sharp and pointed. A lobisomem, Clawdeen realized. Her smooth auburn hair was held in two small pigtails, while her bright aqua eyes were highlighted by her teal eyeshadow. Unlike the first two girls, however, she looked rather giddy as she bounced up and down in her seat, a small smile on her baby face. She was also extremely short, probably around the same height that Draculaura had been._

_The baobhan sith- “Kimber”, Clawdeen remembered was what the chupacabra had called her- chewed on her thumb nail and bounced her knee anxiously, of which produced a small tapping noise as the back of her hoofed foot struck the floor. She was dressed in green like the last time Clawdeen had seen her, which brought attention to her matching emerald irises and made her skin seem almost paler. The chupacabra sat beside her, right next to Clawdeen; she was leaning forward with her elbow on her knee so she could rest her chin in her palm._

_She seemed to sense Clawdeen’s eyes on her, as she suddenly looked up out the corner of her eye. Clawdeen quickly looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed about her staring._

_The chupacabra just gave her a small, sad smile, before she turned her attention back to the front of the room._

_Just then, the door flew open, the force of which was so great it banged against the opposite wall._

_“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” a vampire exclaimed as he rushed in, “Got caught up at the last minute and lost track of time! Hope I didn’t have to keep everyone waiting for too long.”_

_Behind him, he dragged a girl in by her wrist. Clawdeen noticed how she kept trying to pull her arm free, only for the vampire to yank harder on her hand, jerking her to stand upright._

_The alligator checked his watch. “Yeah, we better get this show on the road. We’re five minutes overdue.”_

_“My bad,” the vampire said. He turned to the girl as he finally released her wrist. “Get in line.”_

_The girl rubbed her wrist like it ached as she made her way over to them. Clawdeen observed her- she was a phoenix, with orange hair that was choppily cut and canary yellow skin. Her orchid-purple eyes were hardened and glassy, and her face was pinched up in an annoyed expression. However, she simply marched over to the group and whirled around, standing up as she crossed her arms._

_The alligator gestured to the girls. “Okay, showtime. All of you, on your feet.”_

_The girls all stood up almost in sync. Clawdeen followed clumsily behind the chupacabra as they began to walk single file to another door near the left, which Aran held open for them._

_The door led to the center stage, the front of where they gathered. She felt small under the lights as she turned to face the crowd of men, some of whom started to jeer and holler as they watched the young girls come into view._

_Standing silently against the stage, her and the others girls waited as the men began observing them, analyzing them and deciding on their pick. She saw Aran and the other men who’d been in the dressing area disperse among the crowd, waiting for possible customers to negotiate with them._

_Immediately, she saw the vampire and alligator get approached by a couple of gentlemen. As they talked, they each wrote something down on a small notepad, before the alligator gestured one of the men towards them._

_The man made his way to the front of the crowd, where he approached the siren and reached for her hand._

_“You’re coming with me, my dear,” he said. Clawdeen watched as the siren simply smiled and allowed him to take her by the hand, leading her out of the main hall into one of the back areas. A few seconds later, the other guy- the one who’d talked with the vampire- came up to the phoenix and threw an arm around her waist, guiding her to a doorway near one of the smaller stages; the phoenix giggled and hugged his arm, leaning on him almost possessively as they disappeared around the corner._

_Clawdeen tried not think about what was bound to happen in said back area._

_A flash of orange caught her eye, and she glanced around among the crowd to locate its source, finding Aran standing near the bar. He leaned against the counter, chatting with a guy in a business suit, who nodded in the direction of her and the girls several times._

_The man caught her eye; Clawdeen bristled as he smiled at her, before Aran wrote something down on his own notepad a second later. They both then started towards her, the suited man smiling like he had just won the lottery._

_“Selena, you’re up,” Aran said as he pointed to the guy._

_Clawdeen paled, her eyes sliding to the man. An earth elemental, he nodded back at her eagerly, his smiling making his round cheeks bright red._

_He was quite ugly, she thought as she withheld a grimace, and the scent that came off of him smelled like some kind of rotting fruit. Exactly what you’d expect someone who attended these kinds of events to look like._

_Oblivious to her disgust, he took her hand in both of his hand. He beamed at her as he said, “We’ll have lots of fun.”_

_“Well, you’re in for a treat,” Aran said, giving Clawdeen a dark smirk, “This is her very first night on the job.”_

_The earth elemental’s eyes widened with glee. “Wonderful! I’ll be sure to give her a few pointers on the matter.”_

_“Oh, I’m sure you’ll give her pointers all right,” Aran joked, “At least in the physical sense…”_

_The earth elemental laughed as he tugged Clawdeen along, leading her to the back area where the phoenix and siren had gone with her men. Clawdeen looked over her shoulder, giving Aran a pleading look._

_Aran just smirked at her, like he found the whole thing amusing._

_Forcing herself to look forward, Clawdeen took deep breaths to try and calm the queasiness in her stomach as the man led her to a small, secluded area out of sight from the rest of everyone in attendance, with some small sofas._

_She dreaded the thought of how many times she’d have to repeat this before she finally met her ‘quota’ for the day._

* * *

 

“Seventy-four, seventy-six, seventy-eight…,” Aran muttered to himself as he flipped through the bills in his hands.

Clawdeen took a sip of the bottle of water he’d gotten for her, watching numbly as various people stumbled out the back door of the club, some of them getting out cigarettes to smoke while others went hand in hand to in the small alleyway behind the dumpsters for a quick screw. She could hear some the beat of some techno song playing inside. Although it was only a quarter after eight, the seedy nightclub was nearly bursting at the seams with people.

She scowled thinking back to the guys Aran had set her up with tonight. It was probably one of the more disgusting experiences she’d had- both dudes had stunk like they’d bathed in sewage, and neither seemed to have any idea what he was doing, constantly switching their positions or changing their demands of what they wanted her to do so many times she found herself constantly glancing at her watch in boredom, waiting for the time to finally be over. It didn’t help that the bathroom looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a thousand years.

“Ninety, ninety-five…four hundred,” Aran said, “Twelve-hundred forty. You’re three hundred short. If you get with a guy or two tonight while you hook, you should be able to make the rest by the end of the night.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Clawdeen said.

They began to walk back to the parking garage where he had parked, passing the small platform that led to the back door of the club. As they passed, Clawdeen heard a low whistle.

“Goddamn, would you look at the tail on that?” she heard a guy mutter, “Little mama’s got a whole lot of sugar in that shaker.”

“Yeah, I’d love to howl at _that_ full moon,” another guy responded with a chuckle.

Clawdeen felt her cheeks warm. _Dirtbags,_ she thought bitterly. She held onto Aran’s arm tighter. She just wanted to get back and have this night finally be over; she was tired, sore, and desperately needed to pee, refusing to go anywhere the godforsaken clogged mess that was the sole stall in the entire club.

“Oi, goat-dude, what you offerin’?” someone called from the wall.

Aran and her stopped as they looked to the right. There was a group of guys gathered near the corner of the club’s entrance, smoking cigarettes and holding bottles of beer. A gargoyle, the one who had spoken, gestured at Aran as he stood with his hands in his pockets.

“What?” Aran asked.

The gargoyle gestured at Clawdeen. “I said, what’s your price?” he asked with a British accent, “How much for the slag?”

Clawdeen wrinkled her nose. _Gee, thanks._

Aran scoffed, “Way out of your price range, I can tell you that.”

“Oi, c’mon, mate!” the gargoyle persisted, “Seriously, we can pay! We all can group together and give you it in full! Can’t be that much for a quick shag, can it?”

His friends nodded their heads, giving their own assurances they had the money.

Clawdeen saw Aran purse his lips together, like he was considering it. She hoped he wouldn’t; the neighborhood her and the girls worked in was sketchy enough, but this area in particular looked especially dangerous, with more than a few guys standing outside the club looking like they were ready to go postal at any second.

“How much you got?” Aran finally asked.

The gargoyle and his friends chatted amongst themselves, each of them pulling out wads of bills from their pockets and wallets and holding them out to count it all out. Finally, the gargoyle turned back.

“’Round five hundred dollars,” he said, “That should account for at least a blowie or somethin’, right?”

Aran rubbed his chin, considering the thought. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “For that, I’ll give you fifteen minutes each with her. No more, no less. As soon as it hits nine, we’re out of here whether you’ve all gone or not. Sound good?”

“Whateva, mate just as long as we’re getting our money’s worth,” the gargoyle said, turning to his friends, “Ain’t that right?”

They all nodded in agreement. Aran shrugged and pocketed the wad of cash the gargoyle handed him, counting it real quick before he stuffed it into his pocket and gave Clawdeen a small nudge against her back, pushing her forward.

“She’s all yours,” he said.

The gargoyle gave Clawdeen a crooked grin, rubbing his hands together as he began for her. “All, right, sweetheart, showtime.”

However, he was suddenly shoved aside by his mandrake companion, who gave him a dirty look over his shoulder as he threw an arm around Clawdeen’s shoulders.

“Oi, Manny! What gives?!” one of the others in the group scolded.

“I gave the most money, I get to go first,” the mandrake said, “You wanks wouldn’t even know where to get a ghoul if it weren’t for me, so I get first dibs.”

He began guiding Clawdeen towards a little alcove near the parking area of the building next to the club. There was a little chain-link fence near the dumpsters that provided some shelter away from the club patrons who were hanging out.

As they turned, Clawdeen could hear his friends shout in protest.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take long. I’ll even skip the foreplay!” the mandrake exclaimed over his shoulder.

“Oh, yay,” Clawdeen mumbled, though she offered no resistance as he led her behind the fence...

* * *

 

_Vomit splashed against the water in the toilet bowl, staining the pristine porcelain. Clawdeen grasped the edges of the bowl as she leaned forward, heaving as more came up. Her knees ached against the hard tile, and the cold seeped up against her bare legs, but she barely paid it any mind as she emptied her stomach, crying all the while she did it._

_When she was sure she got everything out, she pulled away and sat back on her knees. Her shoulders shook with sobs as she yanked some toilet paper from the dispenser and wiped her mouth and eyes, spitting into it to try and get rid of the sour taste in her mouth. Her whole body shook with anxiety as she struggled to calm herself down._

_Five guys. That was the total number of men she’d been forced to be with today. Five different guys who’d touched her, used her, regarded her like she was just their own personal plaything. Clawdeen put a hand to her mouth, feeling a new thing of bile start to come up as she thought back to the things they had made her to._

_She could still feel the sensations of their hands on her. Like they had permanently marked her, forcing to feel every little caress and touch and grip over and over. It almost burned like the scars that marked her collarbone and arms had._

_The quiet atmosphere of the bathroom was punctuated with a sharp sob as Clawdeen felt herself crumble. She gave up any attempt to regain her composure as she curled up next to the toilet seat, hugging her knees to her chest as she pressed her face against them._

_She couldn’t take it. The stares, the act she’d have to put on, the touching- god, so much fucking unwanted touching- she felt like she was going crazy. How was she supposed to stand this, day in and day out, when she could barely suffer through a morning of it?_

_She was so caught up to her thoughts, she didn’t notice the sound of the bathroom door opening, nor did she notice the various clacking of heels on the floor as others entered. It wasn’t until there was a sharp knock on the stall door that she paused._

_“Oi, new girl, open up,” a voice said from the other side._

_Clawdeen didn’t move. She stared at the door like that of a spooked deer. She hadn’t locked it before she ran in, though, so it swung open a few seconds later, revealing the phoenix from earlier. Her makeup was slightly smudged now._

_As her eyes fell upon Clawdeen, her expression softened._

_“Aw, come on, kiddo. Don’t do all that,” she said softly as she walked into the stall, holding out her hand to Clawdeen. “You’re not doing yourself any favors letting yourself getting wound up like this.”_

_Clawdeen sniffled and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket as she took the phoenix’s hand and stood up. She allowed the shorter woman to guide her out of the stall and over to the sinks. The siren was also there, touching up her mascara in the mirror._

_Grabbing some paper towels, the phoenix wet them and gently started to wipe Clawdeen’s face._

_“Here, you got something…” the siren said as she handed her another paper towel, gesturing to a lock of hair. Clawdeen looked down to see something got caught in her hair; she accepted the towel with a small ‘thanks’ and wrapped it around the curls, pulling the small chunks free of her curls._

_“I take this your first day?” the phoenix asked, leaning back against the counter._

_Clawdeen nodded as she blew her nose into the paper towel. “Y-Yeah…”_

_“That explains it,” the phoenix said. She paused, before she leaned back against the counter and gestured to herself._

_“I’m Starla, by the way,” she said._

_“And I’m Ruby,” the siren spoke up with a little wave._

_“I’m Cl…S-Selena,” Clawdeen replied, catching herself._

_Starla eyed her for a second, before she suddenly asked. “And how old are you, Selena?”_

_Clawdeen paused. She thought of what Aran had told her earlier, right before he let her go to the bathroom. ‘Never be honest with a customer,’ he said, ‘You never know which one of these fucking losers will suddenly decide he has a heart and wants to squeal. Your age, your name, where you live, none of it. You can never be too careful about which one of these is a cop.’_

_“I’m…I’m nineteen..” she lied._

_“Nah, cut the bullshit, kid,” Starla interrupted, “C’mon, you can tell me the truth. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”_

_Ruby nodded in reassurance, giving Clawdeen a sympathetic smile. Clawdeen eyed the both of them, unsure of whether or not to trust their words. For all she knew, they could be just like Gem and only end up using anything she told them against her._

_She could find no malicious intent in either monster’s eyes, though, so finally, she admitted, “S-Sixteen.”_

_Starla’s brows shot up. “Sixteen? Damn, you’re just a baby.”_

_She smiled half-heartedly. It was a dry, angry one, Clawdeen thought, like she were trying to disguise some kind of fury she felt rather than actually feeling in good spirits. Hateful, almost. Her eyes had a few premature lines at the corners and slight bags, but under the tiredness Clawdeen could see a slight glimmer of fire in them, still a little bit of fight that lingered in the deep violet pools._

_“So ‘Selena’,” she said, “How long you’ve been here?”_

_“I-I was just brought here last night,” Clawdeen said._

_“Damn, and already he’s putting you on the clock?” Starla said in disbelief, “Goddamn, they’re really not wasting any time now. At least when I first came here, Bryce gave me a few days to settle down.”_

_“You know, Aran- never likes to let ‘good money’ go to waste,” Ruby muttered._

_Clawdeen stared at the two of them, unsure of how to respond. Just then, the door to the bathroom opened, revealing the rest of the girls as they came in. The lobisomem rushed into the nearest stall, her hand over her mouth like she was about to be sick, slamming the door shut behind her. Clawdeen cringed as she heard her gag and spit into the toilet a second later._

_“Really, Clarissa?” the sea monster spoke up as she washed her hands, “You’re acting like he just asked you to eat his shit.”_

_“I can’t help it, you know I have a strong gag reflex!” the lobisomem responded from the stall, “I just can’t keep it down!”_

_The sea monster made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Honestly, you still act like an amateur.”_

_“Well, not everyone enjoys having a dick in their mouth like you do, Shelby,” the Chupacabra said as she walked by, ignoring the venomous glare that the sea monster sent her way. She leaned over the counter and pulled out a tube of lipstick, reapplying the dark red color to her plump lips._

_“Vixen, do you have a filer I can use?” Kimber asked as she looked at her nails, “Mine are looking a little shot.”_

_‘Vixen’ reached into her purse and took out a nail file, twisting around to hand it to her. It was then she seemed to notice Clawdeen standing there. Her eyes widened slightly, before she gave a small smile and held out her hand._

_“Hi, we didn’t get to formally meet last night,” she said, “I’m Vixen, and this is Kimber.”_

_She gestured to the baohbhan sith, who gave Clawdeen a shy way. Clawdeen shook her hand hesitantly, nodding at Kimber to acknowledge her. As Vixen went back to putting on her lipstick, Starla turned to her._

_“What color is that?” she asked, “It’s nice.”_

_“Uh, ‘Triffid Rose’,” Vixen replied, staring at the label, “James bought it for me last week.”_

_Starla tilted her head, eyeing her lips. “Looks nice. You think I could borrow it real quick? My stuff’s drying out.”_

_The rest of them bustled about, doing their business and fixing their makeup, as if they weren’t all taking a break before going back to have sex with a dozen or so more guys to get money. As if they were all just a bunch of friends in high school making use of their free time in between classes as they gossiped about the latest rumors._

_Clawdeen stared at them, unable to comprehend any of it. How could they act so calm and collected, like they weren’t all just getting used? How could they just walk around and talk like there weren’t a bunch of guys waiting to fuck them at random, like they were just a bunch of prized horses up for bidding? How could they act so…so_ normal _when this wasn’t anywhere near normal?_

_She didn’t even realize she had started crying again before she suddenly let out a high-pitched whine of despair._

_All conversation immediately stopped as the girls all turned their heads towards her. She wiped at her eyes, her shoulders bouncing up and down as she blubbered._

_“I hate it here!” Clawdeen exclaimed, the words coming out in a rush, “I can’t stand this! T-The things they make me do, I don’t know how you all- how can you just- oh god!”_

_She couldn’t even think straight anymore as she bawled, her loud sobs filling up the small space of the bathroom. She then felt someone fling their arms around her and pull her into a soft embrace. Vixen held her gently, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe._

_“Please don’t cry,” she said softly, “It…it will be all right.”_

_Clawdeen shook her head, shooting her a desperate look. “It’s not all right! It’ll never be all right!”_

_She ripped herself out of the chupacabra’s embrace and stepped back, looking at all of them with desperation._

_“There’s got to be something we can do!” she exclaimed, “They can’t treat us like this forever! I-If we join together, m-maybe we can find a way to get out and get help-“_

_“Oh, yeah, that will totally work,” the sea monster cut her off, her words dripping with sarcasm, “Yeah, let’s just take a walk and try to escape out of this dump that has no windows and who’s exits are either blocked or in sight of every guy there and hope that the half dozen or so wereanimals that are in attendance don’t happen to hear our shoes on the floor or sniff out our perfume!”_

_“Moe, the owner, keeps bodyguards at the back doors,” Vixen explained, rubbing her arm, “For extra security, in case the cops try to take a look around. The only other exits are the front door and the emergency exit in the dressing room, but that’s where the guys hang out when they’re counting tips.”_

_Clawdeen felt her heart sink. “But…” she stumbled, “Surely there’s…there’s got to be some other way. T-They can’t do this to us!”_

_She desperately looked to each of them, trying to find a sign that their spirits were raised, that one of them were willing to and least attempt to go with her. But instead, she only found empty sadness, all of them staring at her with pity._

_“We could…” she trailed off, swallowing thickly as the weight of the whole situation settled upon her, the utter hopelessness coming at her like a slap in the face. Some of the other girls looked away from her, shifting on their feet; you could feel the tension in the atmosphere as if it were a cloud of humidity._

_“Well, you certainly seemed to be settling in just fine last night with Aran,” the sea monster mumbled under her breath._

_Everyone’s heads shot up at her. Clawdeen’s eyes widened in horror at the implication; she felt the shame come back full force. Of course- just because nobody had responded her cries didn’t mean that the walls were soundproof…_

_Ruby furrowed her brows at the blue skinned girl and scolded, “Shut up, Shelby.”_

_“Why, because it will hurt her feelings,” Shelby bit back, pointing at Clawdeen, “If she wants to cry and pout, that’s her problem, but I’m not going to risk getting in trouble and having Grady beating my ass because she’s too stupid to see what’s right in front of her.”_

_She turned to Clawdeen, her fuchsia eyes full of anger. “You might as well get used to it, because you’re going to be here for a while. Because frankly, it’s fucking irritating that new bitches like you always want to come in here and try to drag us down because you can’t cope. So suck it up, because I’m tired of it.”_

_Reaching for her purse, she yanked it from the counter and turned on her heel, marching out of the room without another glance towards Clawdeen or the other girls._

_Right after she left, the door swung open again to reveal the vampire, who held the door open with his arm._

_“Oi, you all getting ready for prom or something, get a move on!” he exclaimed, “The customers don’t have all day!”_

_“We’ll be out in a second,” Starla said, rolling her eyes._

_The vampire frowned at her. “Or, you’ll be out right now, if you know what’s good for you.”_

_He pulled away around the corner, letting the door swing shut after him. Clawdeen heard Starla grumble “asshole” to herself, before she gathered up her things. As she straightened her skirt, she shot a look to Clawdeen over her shoulder._

_“Look, Selena, I know it’s a bitter pill to swallow,” she said, “I was in your shoes when I was younger, so I know exactly how you feel. And I know you don’t want to be here. But…but that’s just the way things are around here.”_

_She didn’t look back to see the crushed look Clawdeen took on as she hurried out the bathroom. The rest of the group watched her go, before slowly- sparing glances at Clawdeen- they too fixed their clothes and made their way out._

_“It’s nothing, personal, it’s just…it’s better not to fight it,” Kimber said to her, her eyes filled with guilt as she fixed her ponytail. She turned away and allowed Vixen to guide her with a hand on her back as they left, the latter giving Clawdeen a concerned stare before she walked out the door._

_Ruby was silent as she left, her head down like that of a child in trouble. Clarissa didn’t even look in Clawdeen’s direction, simply adjusting her blouse and hair in the mirror before she left._

_Clawdeen watched them all go, devastation filling her chest as they took off one by one. Now alone in the bathroom, she watched the door forlornly. A feeling akin to having the wind knocked out of her overcame her, and it was as if it had dawned on her just how helpless she really was._

_She sunk to her knees, her vision blurring as her heart twisted in white hot pain, like someone had just stabbed her through the chest._

_The tears came spilling as she buried her face in her hands, before Clawdeen let herself lose it completely._

* * *

 

_“Thirteen-hundred and sixty-five. Not bad for your first day,” Aran said later as he drove her back that night, “Although you could’ve been a little more engaged with them.”_

_Clawdeen didn’t reply, keeping her attention on her shoes. She sat leaning against the door, her cheek pressed against the window as she numbly watched the way the interior lights made them slightly sparkle from the glitter on the material._

_The number of men she’d been with today now had come to thirteen; she thought the showcase would be the only thing, but as she’d been dismayed to learn, it had only been the beginning. After they left the club, Aran had revealed that she had a few “meetings” with a few clients he’d signed her up for._

_It had been a variety of places; a motel room, the back of an office, a truck stop. One even was at the man’s very own house- Clawdeen tried not to think about how she’d seen a wedding portrait in the hallways of that one, or the pictures that displayed what was clearly a maternity shoot._

_Aran peeped at her from the side, noticing her despondency._

_“You know, when someone’s talking to you, it’s a bit impolite not to respond back,” he said with slight annoyance._

_“I’m sorry,” Clawdeen said._

_“I’m sorry what?” Aran pressed._

_During the showcase, Clawdeen quickly noticed the way the other girls addressed their pimps. A few times they’d said things like “Sir” or “Master”, but very rarely did they ever use the guys’ real names. Only when talking of them did they abandon the formalities. The most common one she’d heard, though, was “Daddy”._

_It made Clawdeen cringe. All she could ever think of when using such a title was that of her father- and she hadn’t referred to him as such since she was eleven. The only other time she’d ever heard it used outside of literal fathers and daughters were those weird girls who called their boyfriends daddy because they were in some sort of kink together. She_ certainly _didn’t want to call Aran that._

_Yet, she want or didn’t want didn’t really matter anymore, and rather than get on his bad side, Clawdeen swallowed her pride._

_“I’m sorry D…D-Daddy,” she repeated, struggling to not make a face with how wrong the last word sounded._

_Aran smiled, “That’s my girl.”_

_He pulled up to the apartment complex and walked her back to her room._

_“Don’t stay up too late, you have another busy day ahead of you tomorrow,” he said as Clawdeen trudged inside through the doorway, “The guy lives all the way in Annapolis, so we’ll have to hustle, so you need to be up bright and early, okay?”_

_“I’ll try…”_

_Aran nodded. “Well, I have to get going. Get some sleep, I’ll be back in the morning._

_“And Selena?” he called, leaning in the doorway right as he started to leave. Clawdeen raised her head at him._

_He grinned, “You did good. Keep it up.”_

_Clawdeen clenched her fists. She stood seething as he closed the door and locked it, listening as his footsteps grew father. Guilt and embarrassment washed over her, eating at her as his mocking words echoed in her head. She had the overwhelming urge to cry._

_Suddenly, however white, hot rage suddenly flared up inside her, burying any mortification. Clawdeen growled as she continued to eye where his figure had previously been, anger coursing through her veins._

_She finally snapped, picking up one of her shoes and hurling it at the door._

_“Bastard!” she spit as it banged against the old wood._

_Whatever fear or worry she had towards the satyr was for now buried under the flood of anger that coursed through her. How dare he treat her hardship like it was one big joke? How dare he laugh at her suffering?_

_“Fucking pig,” Clawdeen snarled as she ripped off her jacket, “Fucking sick son of a bitch, fuck you! ‘Oh you did good!’ Oh, I’ll show you good! Good when I rip out your fucking eyeballs!”_

_She kicked off her other shoe and began pulling off her clothes, refusing to keep the suggestive garments on one minute longer. She marched to the bathroom and grabbed the singlet she wore the night before off the floor and pulled it on, before hurriedly yanking her hair out of its buns; she winced as she pulled too hard at one point and ripped some strands from her scalp._

_Roughly running her hands through her hair, Clawdeen left the bathroom and made her way back into the living room. She sat on the couch, pulling her knees up to rest her chin against them as she fell into thought._

_‘This is your home’ Aran told her last night._

_No, this was not her home._

_Home was back in Oregon, where her family and friends were. Where her pack was. Where she went to school and did fearleading and played baseball and watched latest episode of Project Runway. Home was where she felt safe and loved._

_This wasn’t home. This was hell._

_She needed to leave. No way was this going to be her life- putting on slutty clothes to prance around for a bunch of perverts so some motherfucker could make money off her pain._

_“There’s got to be some way out,” she said to herself, “No way they can keep sight on everything twenty-four seven. There’s got to be something that they skip over, something they don’t consider.”_

_But what would she do? What if she messed up and let her tracks be known, what if Aran caught on to her? Panic started to well up in her as she considered the things he’d do to her…_

_Clawdeen shook her head. No, she couldn’t let herself be overcome with what-ifs. That was how people like him go to her in the first place, letting her imagination run wild and making her paranoid about calling any bluffs._

_She needed to be brave. She was a werewolf- a child of the Moon, blessed by Skoll and Hati and warrior of Fenrir. Wolves didn’t run away when cornered, they went in for the kill and fought with every last breath. Clawdeen Lucia Wolf was nobody’s lap dog!_

_As she repeated these words in her head, Clawdeen steadily felt her resolve harden. Determination flowed through her as she took a deep breath._

_She needed to get out of here. She was **going** to get out of here. _

_She only needed to wait for the right moment._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Not only did it turn out longer than I initially expected it to be, but my laptop also stopped working while in progress. Alas, it's really not fun having to transport a fic on a thumb drive ^^;


	7. Chapter 6: Know Your Role

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Contains descriptive scenes of physical violence, as well as some implicit references to graphic sexual assault, so again, do read with caution.

_(Then: New Salem…)_

_Draculaura bounced her foot up and down anxiously, taking another look at the clock for what had to be the ten-thousandth time that night. The hands seemed to tick by agonizingly slow, and to her dismay, she saw that it had only been a few minutes since the last time she’d looked._

_She pulled her out her phone yet again and glanced at the screen. Nothing but the date, time, and the photo of her and Clawd she had as her lock screen. Her grip tightened._

_“Come on, come on,” she muttered, shaking her phone slightly as if she could will it to generate the text she’d been hoping for, “Pick up. Please pick up.”_

_Her voice wavered as tears came to her eyes. Blinking them away, Draculaura shoved her iCoffin into the pocket of her skirt and lifted her head to watch the scene at the entryway to the dining room._

_Harriet sat at the dining room table, her head in her hands as Clawrk stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder at an attempt at comfort. His face was grim as he listened to the police officer in the living room._

_“Mr. Wolf, Mrs. Wolf, I know this must be very hard for you right now,” the cop repeated gently, “We’re doing everything we can to find your daughter. Now, are you sure that maybe this just isn’t a case of her staying out late and forgetting the time?”_

_“Where else could she have gone? It was only supposed to be a meet up at the Inn in the afternoon for an hour, at the most,” Clawrk said wearily, “Clawdeen’s a good girl. She never forgets to text or call to let us know where she is.”_

_At the table, Harriet mumbled, “I’ve tried everything. I’ve called her, texted her, messaged her on her social media. I’ve called all her friends, her brothers and sisters. I even tried using that app that lets you find a phone when it’s been misplaced. I’ve gotten absolutely nothing. It just goes to voicemail every time…”_

_Her voice carried so much hopelessness and sorrow it made Draculaura want to cry. Clawrk looked down at his wife with a devastated expression as he slowly knelt to take her into his arms. Once again, Laura peeked at her phone. Still, there was nothing._

_She bit her lip as she put it away, trying to will away the blanket of despair she felt begin to settle on her shoulders. She took a glimpse around the living room, observing everyone’s reactions._

_They had all gathered in the living room, positioned either on the sofas or floor as they stared into space miserably, the heavy silence nearly unbearable. Clawd sat beside her, hunched over with his face in his hands much like his mother. Howleen sat on the floor by Cleo and Deuce, her knees drawn up to her chest as she rocked back and forth unsteadily, her eyes wide and shiny and brimming with tears. Their brothers, Howlston and Clawnor, stood against the wall with their arms crossed, both of them looking solemn and uncomfortable, unsure of what else to do._

_It was agonizing, just having to sit there and do nothing. Everyone else had arrived shortly after they did to try and offer help or see if they could do anything, but without a search party able to be planned, all they could was sit and wait._

_Draculaura’s eyes trailed to the empty spot between Lagoona and Frankie; her heart twisted in her chest as she thought of the person who should’ve been there._

_Up until the last two hours, it had been a regular Saturday. Her and Clawd had arranged to go to the movies that morning, and afterward they decided to get lunch at the food court in the maul, where they had then spent a few hours window-shopping and wandering around in the stores to browse._

_As they were about to leave, they had run into Holt and Frankie, out on a day of their own, and decided to get coffee together at the café and that evening, decided to turn it into a double date and get dinner down at the burger joint. It had seemed everyone else had had the same idea, as it was packed with a bunch of kids from school. They ended up getting a booth with the rest of their friends’ group, where Laura and the girls got deeply entwined into sharing the latest gossip while the boys threw French fries at each other._

_Then, Clawd’s phone had suddenly rang._

_The events replayed in Laura’s head like a movie on rewind. She remembered how she didn’t pay much mind to the familiar ringing of her boyfriend’s iCoffin, but at the sound of Clawd trying to calm down his mother, she turned and watched as quickly, his face paled as he listened from the other end._

_“Clawdeen never came home,” he had told her, “She’s not answering her phone. Mom says she hasn’t heard anything from her all day.”_

_They had practically run from the restaurant after they paid, paying no attention to the confused gazes of the people they were sitting with or the rest of the patrons._

_Still, Draculaura tried to keep her head up; surely, this was all just one big misunderstanding, wasn’t it? Maybe Gem had invited Clawdeen over to her house. Maybe her phone died before her text could send and she’d yet to realize it, or she just wasn’t getting good service, wherever she was. There was no way anything had bad had happened to Clawdeen, it was all just a mix up._

_Yet, as much as she wanted these thoughts to be true, Draculaura found herself unable to have hold out much hope._

_Tears filled her eyes once again. And to think she had only just talked to Clawdeen this morning, messaging her about how she was going to great with the designer…_

_She didn’t want to think about how it may have been the last conversation she’d possibly ever have with her._

_‘A-Are you sure?’ she remembered asking Clawd when he told her, ‘M-M-Maybe the meeting just went on much longer than-‘_

_‘Mom says she called the Sunset Inn,’ Clawd cut in, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, ‘They said nobody matching Clawdeen or Gem’s description ever came in. There were no appointments to use their conference room today.’_

_The front door opened. Everyone raised their heads to see Laura’s father and the second police officer come in. The officer’s face was grim as he crossed the living room, not sparing any of the kids a glance as he approached his companion. Dracula’s mouth was set in a deep frown, and there was some kind of flicker in his eyes that immediately told Draculaura something was wrong._

_The officer put a hand on the first one’s shoulder._

_“Tengu, we have trouble,” he said lowly._

_Everyone raised their heads. The first officer turned to look at him. “What is it?”_

_The policeman didn’t respond at first. He shot a look to Dracula, who didn’t meet his eye as he took off his glasses to rub the skin between his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping him._

_“What is it, Vlad?” Clawrk asked, “Did you manage to get find out the other girl’s address? Is Clawdeen there?”_

_The elder vampire didn’t respond. The second officer looked up at the living room, as if he had just now noticed the group of teenagers huddled in the living room. He stood up and wandered into the entryway, regarding them all with a stern expression._

_“Are you sure it was someone from your school that your friend was meeting up with?” he asked all of them, “This ‘Gem?’ Are you all sure we’re all just not mixing two different people up, that we don’t have a case of mistaken identity?”_

_Draculaura and all of them just stared, confused._

_“What are you talking about?” Harriet asked, “What happened with my daughter’s friend?”_

_The officer looked over his shoulder at her, before turning back to the group. He observed them for a moment, as if debating whether or not to tell them with everyone present, before he finally sighed, keeping his gaze on his shoes as he answered._

_“According to your daughter’s administrators, this fairy friend you all talk about was never a student in the first place,” he said, lifting his head up to watch their reactions._

_Draculaura felt her eyes widen. If her heart was still beating, it would have stopped. She suddenly felt a spinetingling coldness come over her, one that wasn’t from any sort of drop in the temperature or windchill._

_The rest of the group glanced at each other, trying to affirm that they had heard him right. She finally broke the silence._

_“That…t-that can’t be right,” she said, shaking her head, “S-S-She’s sat with us at lunch every day for the past two months, s-she talks to us near our lockers all the time, she hung out with us just this last Friday! There’s got to be-“_

_“It’s true,” her father interrupted, crossing his arms, “I looked through the school database and even called Bloodgood at her house. There’s no record of a Gem Faefield ever registering at Monster High.”_

_“But how can that be?” Howleen questioned, gesturing with her arm to the rest of her friends, “I mean, we all saw her at school, she was there every day like every other student.”_

_The first officer nodded as he processed the information, the lines in his forehead deepening._

_“Well, whoever she is, it seems that why she was lurking around your school,” he raised his head, “It wasn’t to try and get an education.”_

_He let the words hang in the air. Everyone grew pale with horror as they realized the implications behind his words. Draculaura felt as though someone had doused her with cold water as a shocking realization came to her about the fairy._

_Gem didn’t have any social media. Clawdeen was the only one in their friends’ group who had her phone number. She was always around Clawdeen, talking to her, hanging around her, asking her about stuff. And she was the one who suggested they meet up today…_

_Bile suddenly rose up in her throat. Draculaura fought to swallow it down._

_The tense quiet was suddenly broken by a shrill wail. They all turned to see Harriet bury her face in her hands as she shot out of her seat and stumbled backward._

_“Oh gods!” she cried out, “O-Oh god! No!”_

_She started to sink to her knees. Clawrk darted towards her and caught her, pulling her close to his chest as she gripped his arms tightly and cried into his shirt._

_“Harriet…” he said, trying to soothe her as he held her gently._

_“Clawrk, w-we have to find her!” Harriet said tearfully, “Our daughter, our baby’s out there somewhere! S-she could be hurt, or lost a-and have no way to get back to us! We have to do something, we have to…”_

_She trailed off with a giant sob and buried her face in her husband’s chest. Clawrk stroked her back and her hair, whispering soft words to try and calm her down, though he looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown himself. Draculaura couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so helpless._

_Everyone shifted in their seats in the living room, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do. It was an uncomfortable sight, watching the normally bold and composed alphas of the Wolf clan so unwound._

_Dracula watched them, his hands clenching, before he turned the policemen._

_“Is there anything else you can do, anything at all?” he asked._

_“Emergency Responses will put out an Amber Alert and we’ll file a missing persons report,” the first officer explained, “We’ll patrol the area for a little while, see if there’s anyone who’s seen the truck you’ve described or anything with the fairy girl.”_

_He sighed, “But…our best chances may have to wait until tomorrow. Doubt there’s many people still up at this hour who can tell us anything.”_

_Draculaura felt her heart sink at that. How could they possibly wait when Clawdeen was missing? Waiting around was precious time possibly being wasted. By tomorrow, she may have been already been transported across the state, or being forced into a marriage with some crazy guy who had her in an underground bunker in the woods, or…or worse…_

_She was about to scold herself for considering going down that rabbit hole, Clawd suddenly raised his head and stared at the three men, before he finally spoke up._

_“T-That’s it?” he said, “We just go to bed a-and what? Try to pretend for now that this-this isn’t happening?”_

_The cop answered, “I understand your frustration, son, but right now we don’t have much to work with, and with how late it is going door to door isn’t going to be convenient if most people are too sleep-addled to remember-“_

_“There has to be something else we can do!” Clawd exclaimed, shooting up from his seat, “Can’t you organize a search party, or put a report on the news, or-or something! You can’t just expect us to just sit around when Clawdeen needs our help!”_

_Dracula walked up to him up and put a hand on his shoulder, his face uncharacteristically soft._

_“Clawd, they’re doing all they can,” he said._

_“Well, it’s not enough!” Clawd said, tearing away from him, “We should be out there looking for her! Clawdeen could be in danger and every minute we just fucking stand here is one more wasted in trying to find her, dammit!”_

_Over on the floor, Howleen hugged herself and looked up, her eyes wide._

_She asked in a small voice, “Guys, what if…what if we’re too late? What if she’s already-“_

_“Don’t you **FUCKING** dare even say it!” Clawd snarled at her, lunging forward as he bared his teeth at his sister. His gold eyes were bright with anger, his fists clenched tightly with the veins bulging out against his skin. _

_Howleen shrunk under his harsh glare, her ears lowering. Romulus got up and put a hand to Clawd’s chest to hold him back._

_“Who are you mad at, Clawd, your sister or the situation?” he asked sternly._

_Clawd whipped around and shrugged him off._

_“You don’t get it!” he snapped, “None of you get it! You’re not the ones whose sister is missing, you’re not the ones whose family is going through this! You don’t know what it’s like! My sister is out there, possibly hurt or scared or worried and we have no way of knowing where she is or what happened! None of you know! You don’t- you don’t….O-Oh god…”_

_Clawd’s face fell, the fury in his eyes replaced with heart-wrenching grief. It was hard to watch as he suddenly buried his head in his hands and began to weep, sliding down against the wall._

_Draculaura and Romulus caught each other’s eye, both of them at a loss of what to do. Getting out of her seat, Draculaura started for her boyfriend, intent on consoling him, when a small voice suddenly caught her attention._

_“Mommy? Why are you crying?”_

_Laura froze. Everyone suddenly went quiet as they all looked towards the stairs. Pawla, Barker, and their brothers stood gathered at the bottom, all of them dressed in pajamas and holding blankets and stuffed animals. They stared at their parents with confusion, some of the boys tilting their heads as they observed the two police officers and the large group of older monsters that stood crowded in their house._

_“Mama? What’s wrong?” Barker asked, furrowing his brow, “Why are you and Big Brother crying?”_

_“Why are cops here?” his brother Fursey added, “Were we bad?”_

_“Did someone die?” Hairron questioned._

_Harriet gawked at her children, her face going pale at their questions. She looked almost fearful of them, her mouth falling open as she failed to come up with an answer for them._

_Draculaura was the one to take charge. She walked up to the pups, giving them a soft smile as she began to guide them back towards the stairs._

_“Mommy and Daddy are just a little sad,” she said, “But luckily, the nice policemen are here to help make everything better, so none of you have anything to worry about.”_

_Some of the boys didn’t look entirely convinced by her words, sparing looks at their parents as if seeking reassurance._

_“Go back to bed, kids,” Clawrk said, “Everything is…everything’s okay.”_

_The pups seemed pacified by this, and silently obeyed as they turned around and started walking back upstairs, Draculaura leading after them. She paused on the stairs, looking back out on the group._

_Clawrk had Harriet cradled against his chest. He looked up from stroking her hair and mouthed a ‘Thank you’ to her. Draculaura smiled sadly, nodding in assurance. It was quickly lost, though, when her eyes fell upon Clawd, still sitting and crying. Her hand clenched on the railing as a sudden feeling of guilt went through her at not going to comfort her boyfriend._

_She saw Romulus kneel and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He looked up and nodded at her._

_Laura sent her own silent thanks to him and continued to lead the pups upstairs, bringing them back to their bedrooms. She got each of them a glass of water and tucked them in, gently reassuring them that no, Mommy and Daddy weren’t in any trouble, they just had a little incident that required them to call the nice police guys to help clear everything up. One by one, the boys fell asleep, pacified with the information that nobody was in danger._

_If only she could reassure herself so easily, Laura thought._

_She shook off the thoughts as she led Pawla- the last of the pups- back to her room and tucked her in, smiling at her as she tucked in some of the little wolf’s favorite plush animals as well._

_“There we go,” she said as she patted the folded sheets, “Is that tight enough?”_

_Pawla just pouted at her. She looked uneasy, her brows furrowed and her large butter yellow eyes wide with concern._

_“Lala,” she said, “Did something happen to Deenie?”_

_Draculaura paused. Her eyes widened at the little girl. “How did you-“_

_“I…I heard Mommy earlier,” she said, “She kept trying to call her, but Deenie wouldn’t pick up. Mommy started to sound worried. It sounded like Deenie…like she was in trouble.”_

_Her lip jutted out. “Nothing…bad happened to her, did it, Lala?”_

_Draculaura stared at the little pup, shocked at the questions. She swallowed hard, the scared look in Pawla’s eyes cutting her deeply. She found herself conflicted; Pawla was much too young to understand the depths of the seriousness of the situation, she didn’t need to be burdened with such information of her sister being missing. Yet, Draculaura found herself hesitating about whether she could actually lie to her. If Clawdeen wasn’t found soon, her and her siblings were bound to catch on sooner or later…_

_Lastly, she just smiled and stroke Pawla’s hair, tucking a chocolate brown curl behind her ear. She said, “No, little one. Your sister’s going to be just fine. I promise.”_

_Pawla searched her eyes, trying to find some sign of deceit. However, she finally gave a nod and hugged her stuffed bear close to her. “Okay.”_

_“Okay,” Laura said, leaning over to give her a soft kiss on her temple, “Sweet dreams.”_

_After Pawla finally closed her eyes and seemed to drift off, Draculaura got up and left the room, softly closing the door behind her._

_As she stood outside, though, Draculaura stared at the door, contemplating Pawla’s words. She felt herself starting to crack, tears brimming her eyes and starting to spill over. She put a hand to her mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to come out._

_‘Your sister’s going to be just fine. I promise.’_

_How could she make such a promise when she had zero idea of what had happened to Clawdeen?_

_An uncomfortable tight feeling spread in her chest at the thought of the werewolf. Her amazing, wonderful, passionate, beautiful Clawdeen- now missing, taken from them. The fierce she-wolf who was her best friend, whose life Laura had been blessed to be a part of and watch her grow from a little ghoul to a strong, amazing woman, was now gone to God knows where and forced to do God knows what._

_Draculaura was not new to misfortune- she had over fifteen hundred years of experience of tragedy, loss, death, and war and had been there to witness firsthand some of the worst events to ever occur in the history of man- but even after all of it, none of it stung nearly as horrible as the thought that she may never see her best friend again. It made her want to curl up in a ball in the dark and cry her heart out._

_But she didn’t. instead, Draculaura took a deep breath and straightened up, using her sleeves to dry her cheeks and wipe away any makeup her tears may have smeared._

_She couldn’t afford to fall apart like this. Not now. She needed to be strong. For Clawd and his family._

_Fanning her face, Draculaura cleared her throat and started to head back downstairs._

_Before she did, she paused at the railing, peering through the large window on the opposite wall that gave her a full view of the night sky. The moon was out tonight, brilliantly glowing with its milky white color and its large spherical shape. It was almost full._

_Silently, Draculaura prayed to it. ‘Please, bring her home, Mother Moon,’ she pleaded, ‘Keep her safe and watch over her.’_

_With that, she got herself recomposed and headed back downstairs._

* * *

 

( _Now...)_

Clawdeen gripped the sides of the tub, slowly lowering herself into the warm water that filled it. She hissed at the harsh sting that came as it made contact with the cut on her leg, but she bared through the pain and continued to get in until she was fully submerged. Once in, she lay back for a moment, closing her eyes as she felt the warm water immediately begin to relieve the tight knots in her shoulders.

Bringing a hand up to her face, Clawdeen gently pressed against the skin under her eye, wincing at the tenderness. She was definitely going to have a black eye tomorrow. Reaching behind her head, she rubbed the area on her scalp where a patch of hair had been ripped out; she could feel stubble from where it had already begun to grow back, but it still ached from the rough force it endured.

She opened her eyes and stared at the shower wall. It was quiet in the bathroom, save for the occasional drip from the faucet. Taking a deep breath, Clawdeen sat up and grabbed the shampoo bottle that rested on the edge to start washing her hair.

Today had been a bad day.

She should’ve known when she cut herself shaving last night that it was, but for the most part, nothing too interesting had happened. Once Aran came to pick her up to take her to the last client of the day, however, it had pretty much all gone to hell from there.

One of Aran’s business deals had apparently fallen through, which put him and his team further behind in the project they’d been working on. He’d also gotten a speeding ticket that morning, and that afternoon he’d been left in a bad mood, something that immediately put Clawdeen on high alert and made her extra cautious of what she said and did around him in fear of setting him off.

However, it seemed that the universe was not on her side today, and things only got worse from there; first, they got stuck in traffic and ended up being late to the last guy’s house, then the fucking cheap-ass tried to sneak one over on them by “secretly” bringing his friends over so they could have a turn with Clawdeen without paying.

Luckily, that didn’t happen, and while she still got her money from the guy paying upfront, the bloody nose he sported after Aran confronted him told Clawdeen she probably wouldn’t be seeing him again.

That had put Aran in an even worse mood, and by the time they’d gotten back to the apartments (after a deathly quiet car ride), he looked like he was about to burst at the seams.

It wasn’t until Clawdeen was gathering up her purse and made the innocuous mistake of knocking over his drink, though, that he finally did snap and beat her right there in the car.

Clawdeen dunked her head under the water briefly to rinse out her hair, before she poured some body wash onto a bath sponge and started lathering up her chest. She held out her arms as she soaped them down, inspecting them for any more injuries.

The most damage was to her left arm, where there were several areas of skin that were inflamed and starting to discolor from fresh bruises. She could feel warmth along the back of and around her left shoulder blade as well, indicating there was going to be swelling there as well, although she could also see some marks on her right hand from where she had attempted to shield her face.

“Nothing a little ice can’t take care of,” Clawdeen mumbled, trying to remember if she had filled up the ice tray in the freezer last night.

It wasn’t that bad. No broken bones or everlasting scars; if anything, her pride hurt worse than the actual bruises. If only she’d been more careful or vigilant about her surroundings, then Aran wouldn’t have gotten so mad.

 _Or he would’ve done it anyway, but at a later time after nitpicking you about something because he wanted a reason to take it out on you,”_ her inner voice countered.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. It was only a few bruises and a black eye, they’d be gone within a few days. She’d survived much worse.

It was better than Aran burning her with a lighter, or using his stun-gun on her. Clawdeen shuttered when she thought about those moments.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the memories from her head. She didn’t want to think about those moments now.

Grabbing her razor from the corner, she raised her left leg out of the water and propped it on the edge of the tub, before she started to shave her legs.

Now, all she wanted to do was get cleaned, make dinner, and go to bed. Then this shitty day could finally be over.

* * *

 

_Clawdeen stared at the ceiling, numbly counting the bumps in the paint. She wasn’t exactly keeping track of the correct number, and she was sure she had more than likely lost count a few times, but it was better than having to focus on the man hovering above her. She lay motionless under him as he moved, his attention all focused on trying to get off._

_She rolled her head to the side to stare out the window of the hotel room. Her brows furrowed slightly as she had to fight off the sudden urge to cry._

_It had been a week since she’d been put in Aran’s care. In that small window of time, Clawdeen had already been worked to the bone. Day in and day out, night after night, it was nonstop, with the satyr making her wake up early in the morning and driving her around the city to serve whomever had paid him for her ‘services’ for however long the guys wanted her, never getting back until the very late hours of the night._

_She’d been subjected to a variety of treatments- none of which she got to object to, of course. Most of them were rather dismissive- caring for nothing more than to get her undressed and have their way with her and make the most use of the time they had with her; some of them acted all sweet and nice and tried to almost woo her, like she were some sort of secret lover or wife._

_Others were just cruel, if not downright psychopathic at times; they loved to make her scream (not in ecstasy), make her hurt, make her bleed. They got turned on watching as her skin bruised and went red from irritation from their claws and nails. One guy gripped her thigh so hard that his nails pierced her flesh, four crescent-shaped punctures left in her skin that still throbbed days later as they healed into bloody scabs._

_Clawdeen clenched her hand in the sheets. She tried to get those guys out of her head, before she fell into another panic attack._

_“O-Oh, O-O-O-Oh my,” the man panted, “O-O-Oh goodness, o-oh gods yes-“_

_He gripped the mattress beneath him tighter as he started going faster, throwing his weight further onto Clawdeen. Clawdeen grimaced, trying to ignore the various sounds he was making; it was revolting, hearing the way they groaned and sputtered- it sounded more like they were having heart attacks than having orgasms. The stench of their sweat stung her nostrils. Her skin would prickle at the feeling of their slick flesh against hers._

_The man thrust harder, before she felt him suddenly seize up as a warm sensation filled her lower belly. Clawdeen grit her teeth, the feeling now one that she hated more than anything in the entire world._

_The sole solace she could find in it all, was that Aran made the guys wear protection. Most of the time, at least._

_Spent, the man hung his head. Sweat dripped off his nose as he panted and grinned down at the werewolf. ‘Glad one of us could at least in enjoy it,’ Clawdeen thought. She cringed as he dipped his head to kiss her right on the lips, before he threw the sheet back and crawled off the bed to grab his clothes and head for the bathroom._

_Clawdeen stay laying in the bed, her eyes still locked onto the window. A lone tear rolled down her cheek as she heard the man get dressed._

_There was a knock at the door. The man looked into the peephole, before he unlocked it and pulled it open, stepping to the side to allow Aran to step in._

_“Mr. Hoovestein,” he nodded in greeting._

_“Mr. Stymph,” Aran greeted back, “Just came by to come get my girl. I hope she met your expectations?”_

_“Oh, above and beyond,” the man said back, looking over his shoulder at Clawdeen with excitement. “She’s definitely a lucky catch.”_

_He went back into the bathroom. Aran approached the side of the bed where Clawdeen was laying. He stood in front of her, blocking her view of the window. Clawdeen slowly looked up at him, her gaze dull and emotionless._

_“Hurry up, we have another guy to meet,” Aran said, tossing her clothes at her._

_There was little to no energy remaining in her, but Clawdeen forced herself to pull the sheets back and sit up to do as he said._

_The weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse as they left the hotel. Heavy rain poured down, while Clawdeen could hear the steady rumble of thunder in the distance. Her and Aran ran to the car, which luckily was only a few feet away, but both of them still got almost completely soaked within seconds._

_“Goddamn spring storms,” Aran muttered as he cranked on the heat, “The roads are going to be a pain in the ass to try and get through.”_

_Clawdeen rubbed her arms as she shivered from the cold, looking out the window at the rain. A cynical thought came to her head at his comment. ‘Good. Maybe we’ll crash and die and I’ll finally be done with this shit. Or at least the police will find out what you’ve done to me.’_

_“Although,” Aran turned to her, smirking as he eyed her chest, “Maybe this could help your tips. Guys go crazy for a little wet t-shirt now and then.”_

_Confused, Clawdeen looked down at her front. Much to her chagrin, she found that the thin leopard print crop-top she wore was wet, allowing it to cling to her chest and therefore expose her bare skin underneath. Her nipples were nearly visible. She flushed with embarrassment._

_She tried to push it down, however, and gave him a weak smile. “W-Well, if they like this,” she said in an attempt to sound playful, “T-Then they should love the…the prize even more.”_

_Aran laughed, “Oooh, naughty girl. I like it. You’re already starting to think ahead.”_

_He reached over the console and put his hand on her leg. Clawdeen tried not to jerk as she felt his thumb begin to caress her inner thigh. Her gut twisted as his fingertips slowly trailed back and forth on her leg._

_Trying to distract herself, she looked back out the window. The rain made everything blurry, but she could faintly make out billboards jutting out from the trees next to the highway, as well as the logos for a few local restaurants they passed. Clawdeen caught sight of a billboard that advertised Casta Fierce’s latest tour, announcing that she was coming to the metropolitan area in a few months._

_Clawdeen felt her heart sink. Her and Draculaura had bought tickets to see her when she came to the Pacific Northwest in April. It was going to be somewhat of a birthday present for the both of themselves, since the tickets came out in February and the concert would occur only a week before Clawdeen turned seventeen._

_She shook the thought out of her head. ‘You could still make it to see that day,’ she told herself, trying to raise her spirits, ‘You just need to figure out a way to get out of this shithole and you’ll be back home.’_

_Aran directed the car onto a community road, one that belonged to an obviously wealthy neighborhood, with the houses sporting Roman-style columns and expensive cars lining the driveways that were parked alongside boats and RVs._

_Pulling up to such a house, they hurried from the car onto the porch to get out of the rain, before Aran rang the doorbell. Clawdeen heard a ‘one second!’ echo from within._

_The door opened a second later, revealing a an adlet in a dress shirt and pants._

_“Aw, come in, come in!” he said, ushering them in, “Please make yourselves at home!”_

_He guided them into the living area, before excusing himself to go grab his payment. Aran nudged Clawdeen towards the couch. He ordered, “Go sit down.”_

_Doing as she was told, Clawdeen sat on the edge and watched as the adlet came back, a thick envelope in his hands. He handed it to Aran, who took out the stack of bills inside and counted them out quickly, before he put the envelope into the pocket of his coat. He smiled at the adlet and shook his hand, before the latter led him to the door._

_“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” the adlet asked, “The more the merrier.”_

_“I can’t, something came up at work and I have to go get it under control,” Aran said, “But I’ll be back by three.”_

_The two bid each other goodbye, Aran giving Clawdeen a look that read ‘don’t cause any trouble’ before the adlet shut the door behind him. After he locked it, he turned to Clawdeen, a soft smile on his face._

_Clawdeen stayed on the couch, unsure of what to do as he came over to her and sat down beside her._

_It was awkward, just sitting there in silence as he stared at her, the sound of the ceiling fan and the rain hitting the windows the only noises permeating the atmosphere. Clawdeen wiggled her toes inside her shoes, unsure of if she was supposed to do something or not._

_Then, he reached out and held out his hand to her, the palm side up. Clawdeen glanced down at it, before looking back up at him with confusion._

_“Please,” he said, “Would you…would you hold my hand?”_

_Clawdeen blinked, surprised by the request. She did so, lightly gripping his middle and index finger. The adlet’s breath hitched as he gripped her hand back. He looked at her with an intense gaze, toffee brown eyes wide._

_“Thank you,” he said, sounding out of breath, “Thank you.”_

_Okay, you’re totally creepy, Clawdeen thought. She finally decided to speak up, though, thinking if she played along with whatever he was doing (if he was planning anything and just wasn’t a weirdo), he might leave her alone quicker._

_She smiled at him. “What’s your name?” she asked, raising her voice so it had more of a higher pitch than usual._

_The adlet swallowed, “E-Eriq.”_

_Clawdeen stroked her thumb over his finger. She remembered Aran’s words to her on her first day about giving the men compliments, how it could help her in terms of getting payment. She readjusted her posture, crossing one leg over the other so her miniskirt hitched up a little higher, showing off her thighs._

_“You have nice eyes, Eriq,” she said._

_He actually blushed. He looked down at his shoes shyly, “Y-You probably say that to everyone.”_

_“No, I mean it,” Clawdeen said, “You’re so handsome. I like you, Eriq. Do you like me?”_

_He looked up at her this time. His smile was shy, almost like that of a teenage boy who had just worked up the nerve to talk to the pretty girl in class he had a crush on, despite the fact that he looked like he was in his forties, at the least. Clawdeen almost pitied him; considering that he seemed to live in this gigantic house with all this money by himself, he seemed like he was probably just lonely and hadn’t had much success with women through his life._

_Almost. The immediate resentment she felt for him for partaking in such activities like buying her like she was a rental car overshadowed any sympathy she may have felt._

_“Yeah,” he nodded, “I do like you. S-Selena, right?”_

_Clawdeen nodded. Maybe…maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. She could tell she was already roping him in. Maybe if she kept it up, they could get this over with sooner and he’d let her be or something. And then Aran would be here in no time and she could go home and cry once she was alone._

_Eriq reached up to run his hand down her arm. His breath hitched as he felt her skin._

_“You’re so beautiful,” he said, “M-My daughter’s around the same age as you. You look a lot like her, actually.”_

_The smile disappeared off Clawdeen’s face. She stared at him in horror. She didn’t like that insinuation._

_Eriq looked back up at her. His eyes were clouded with arousal, and he was panting._

_He immediately took her upstairs to his bedroom and undressed her, before he had her in his bed, his movements quick and desperate. At one point, he called her a name she didn’t recognize. A feminine one, which he repeated several times._

_From the picture of the teenage girl that sat on his nightstand, it didn’t take much for Clawdeen to figure out who he was talking about._

_After they were done, he lay beside her, his hand holding hers in a death grip as he tried to catch his breath. His hand was sweaty. Clawdeen lay stiffly beside him, her hand on her stomach. She stared absently at the ceiling._

_He looked over at her and smiled, sitting up and sliding into a sitting position at the edge of the bed._

_“I’ll run us a bath,” he said, “That way we can get you all cleaned up before your master comes. It’ll make things a little fun, too.”_

_“Thanks,” Clawdeen said emptily. She didn’t want to look at him._

_Nodding happily, Eriq got up and walked to the bathroom. A moment later, Clawdeen heard the rush of bathwater starting to run, along with him whistling as he opened various drawers and took things out._

_She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. She glared at the bathroom door, before she absentmindedly looked around the room._

_A sudden shimmer of something to the left caught her eye. Clawdeen turned her head. Another nightstand sat next to the bed, its surface littered with miscellaneous items, such as a dish of rings and a water bottle._

_Nestled between the lamp and a small stack of books was a letter opener. The blade was a polished brown metal, possibly bronze, while the handle consisted of smooth mother of pearl._

_An idea suddenly came to Clawdeen._

_The doorknob of her room was an old one, with chipped paint and the screws holding the knob in place visible._

_If something could undo those screws, then there was the chance that the whole knob on either end would fall apart. She remembered seeing something of the sort in a movie, once._

_Clawdeen looked towards the bathroom door. Could she…? What if he noticed it were gone?_

_She snuck another glance at the bathroom, before she dove for the letter opener. It felt cool and lightweight in her hands. It looked just small enough to be able to fit into the inner pocket of her jacket and not be seen; she’d have to be careful about moving in order to not nick herself._

_Throwing the sheets back, Clawdeen slid out of the bed and knelt besides where her clothes had been tossed. Feeling around for the tiny pocket in the inner lining of her jacket, she carefully slid the letter opener in. As an extra measure, she tossed her skirt and shirt on top of it so it didn’t look like she’d been messing with it._

_She shot up to her feet just as the bathroom door opened. Eriq stopped as he saw her stand, a low grin coming onto his face as he admired her bare body once again._

_“The bath is ready, love,” he said, extending his hand to her, “Shall we?”_

_Clawdeen smiled and strolled towards him. She took his hand and allowed him to pull him into the master bath, where a steaming bath filled the marble bathtub, decorated with rose petals and the scent of lemon bath oil._

_A bath filled with silver nitrate honestly sounded more appealing than having to spend any more time naked in the creepy man’s company, but Clawdeen went along, feeling a bit more motivated than she had been the last few days._

_She’d finally been able to find an out. Something that could put her plan in motion in finally getting away from Aran and the rest of these creeps. Now, she was one step closer to getting away._

_One more step to being free._

* * *

_"Damn, whatever you did, you must've worn off on him a lot," Aran said impressively as he led her to the room, "Almost two-fifty. I can't remember the last time a girl made that much off a single customer."  
_

_Clawdeen asked, "D-Does that mean I did good?"_

_"Better than good," Aran smiled, "Keep it up and you might just make your quota for the next few weeks."_

_'Too bad I won't be here when the next few weeks comes around, you son of a bitch,' Clawdeen sneered internally. She patted her pocket, feeling the straight edge of the letter opener against the fabric of her pocket._

_She stepped into the room after Aran opened the door. He lingered in the doorway while she changed out of her clothes; Clawdeen threw the thin crop top and skirt combo in the corner and pulled on a loose green shirt and sleep shorts, relieved to finally wear something that gave her a better level of comfort.  
_

_"I have a meeting tomorrow, so so far you only have one client for the day," he explained, "I'll see if there's a few guys who answered my ad while I'm at work, though, so be prepared for any changes."_

_Clawdeen nodded, though her nails dug into her skin at the mention of him putting an ad out on her. Like she was a lamp up for sale on Craigslist or Ebay._

_"Well, goodnight, Selena," Aran said in departure._

_"'Night, Daddy," she replied._

_She stood silently as he left, listening as he locked the door and started walking away, her ears straining to try and keep hold of the sound of his footsteps._

_“One, two, three…” Clawdeen counted under her breath as she heard them grow fainter. There was a slight clang of metal, barely audible, that let her know he was going down the stairs. A second later, she heard the sound of an engine and the crunch of rocks under tires as he pulled out._

_By the time she got to thirty-two, she heard nothing._

_She didn’t move quite yet. She stayed where she was a second longer, listening in for anyone else. Nothing._

_The clock on Aran’s dashboard had read that it was a quarter past twelve when they had pulled up. Most of the other tenants were probably asleep by now, or out doing nightly activities. Aran said he’d be over later tomorrow, as something came up at his work._

_For the rest of the night and early morning, she’d be all alone._

_Sliding off her shoes, Clawdeen walked over to the window. She peered out through the blinds, searching for anyone on the balconies or walkway._

_Nobody. No cars pulled into the parking lot. The night was still._

_Clawdeen released the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, before she finally reached into her jacket and pulled out the letter opener._

_Holding it out in front of her, she finally took the chance to examine it up close. The blade was about nine inches long, probably only half an inch in width. Her claws clicked against the handle. She glanced to the door._

_Finally, she got to work._

_Rushing to the door, Clawdeen kneeled down in front of the knob and inspected it. Sure enough, the screws that kept the knob to the door were exposed. Her heart beating fast, she attempted to stick the end of the letter opener into the slit of one of the screws._

_The letter opener was too big; its tip barely touched the edge of the screw._

_“Dammit, come on!” Clawdeen whispered desperately as she tried to maneuver it around to undo the screw, though it easily slipped from the little indent in the knob and scraped against the barrier._

_Her palms were sweaty as she continued to mess with the knob, refusing to give up despite the difficulty. Tears came to her eyes as frustration built up in her. She was **so** close; it was like the fucking knob was mocking her, looking so easy to undo and yet proving to be a major obstacle. _

_She hissed as the letter opener slipped again, this time slicing into the pad of her thumb from where she placed it next to the knob. Clawdeen yanked her hand away and put her thumb in her mouth, trying to stifle the blood as she continued with her task._

_Finally, the tip of the letter opener found purchase. She used both hands to twist it around, quickly loosening the screw from its socket. Tiny shavings fell onto the carpet as the opener slipped a few more times and scratched at the old brass._

_There was a clink as the screw rattled against its socket, before Clawdeen stumbled as the letter opener suddenly gave. It banged against the door and the blade scraped against the paint, leaving a long gash in its wake._

_The knob screw lay on the ground at her knees._

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened. It…it worked. It actually worked!_

_Adrenaline made her heart hammer against her ribcage as she quickly got to undoing the other screw. She felt a sliver of hope beginning to bloom within her as it too came loose and fell to the floor, leaving the trim plate at the base of the knob loose. Clawdeen jabbed the letter opener into the space that rested between it and the door and maneuvered it back and forth._

_The knob popped off and bounced off her thigh as it fell away from the door. The area throbbed from the force, but Clawdeen barely noticed the pain as she set the letter opener down and grabbed at the little flat piece that jutted out from the end of the other doorknob._

_“The insert is what locks it. The middle shaft is what opens it,” she mumbled to herself, trying to remember what her dad had showed her and Clawd, as a means to demonstrate what to do in case one of their younger siblings got stuck in a room or locked them out of the house._

_It was hard to keep a steady grip on the small metal insert, but despite her fingers turning sore and red from the effort, Clawdeen managed to twist it sideways; the small click of the lock becoming undone was like music to her ears._

_Taking hold of the hollow square shell that the insert lay in, she turned it to the left and pulled._

_The door came forward._

_Clawdeen shot to her feet, reaching around and grabbing the knob just as it started to fall away outside. Quickly tossing it onto the sofa, she slowly pulled the door open just enough to peer outside. She looked both ways._

_There wasn’t a soul in sight. The only sign of movement came from the moths that fluttered about the walkway light above her. Her came out in puffs in front of her face._

_Slowly stepping out into the cold spring night, Clawdeen quickly shut the door behind her._

_‘I can do this,’ she told herself, ‘I can do this. I **need** to do this.’ _

_Without another thought, she bolted from the spot._

_Her bare feet made slapping sounds on the concrete stairs as she rushed down them. Clawdeen jumped from the last few steps, ignoring the pins and needles sensation that erupted in her heels from the force as she landed on the pavement. She ducked next to the cars and kept low as she navigated between them, dashing across the parking lot and onto the street._

_The vandalized and condemned buildings of the neighborhood loomed above her threateningly, as if they were sentient beings, watching her every move. The thick shadows they cast looked like they were about to swallow her whole, pulling her into a void of darkness and whatever possible creatures took refuge in their inky blackness._

_Clawdeen didn’t dare linger on them or look back. She kept her gaze forward, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for any sign of life within the dark and quiet buildings._

_Her arms pumped back and forth at her sides, while her legs muscles burned as she forced herself forward. Her throat and lungs burned from the exertion; Clawdeen grit her teeth as she felt a stitch beginning to form in her side. She tried to ignore it and continued running. She couldn’t afford to slow done; one wrong move and they could be on her trail in seconds._

_She came to the edge of the neighborhood, where the roads crossed at an intersection that led onto a freeway and bridge. Tears filled Clawdeen’s eyes as she saw that there were still a handful of cars waiting at the light._

_A fresh wave of adrenaline came over her. She rushed forward, waving her arms as she got in sight of the cars._

_“HELP!” she screamed, trying to flag one down, “HELP, SOMEONE, I NEED HELP!”_

_She ran up to one of the cars that was stopped, banging on its windows to get the driver’s attention._

_“Help me, please!” she pleaded._

_The driver looked at her, frightened, but instead of helping her, they just pressed on their acceleration and sped away through the red light, like they wanted to get as far away from the werewolf as possible._

_“Please!” Clawdeen cried, running to the other cars, “Please, someone, I need the police! I need help!”_

_She tried to run after a few of the cars as the lights at the intersection turned green and they immediately picked up speed, leaving her behind. Clawdeen could feel the hope burning in her chest quickly begin to dissipate into despair._

_It was as if nobody was seeing her. None of them cared._

_However, she didn’t give up. She continued to wave her arms and jump up and down as she began to run down the shoulder of the road that led onto the freeway, her head turned back to the exit._

_“Please, please, someone stop!” she called out, “Help me! Somebody, please, just help me!”_

_Her eyes burned at the intensity of their headlights as they flooded over her figure, but nobody stopped. They just continued driving, some even picking up speed as they went past her, their taillights becoming nothing more than little red specks in the darkness._

_Then, she suddenly heard the screech of tires on asphalt. Clawdeen looked towards the freeway to see a white Mercedes stopped up ahead._

_The driver’s side door opened, before an asanbosam popped out and waved at her._

_“Oi, get in!” he called, “Over here!”_

_Clawdeen felt her heart swell in relief._

_Finally, FINALLY, someone above had listened to her. Finally, she was going home._

_She stumbled to the Mercedes and flung herself into the asanbosam’s chest, nearly tackling him backward._

_“Please, please, please, help me!” she cried, grasping his shirt, “Please, I-I’ve been kidnapped, a-and I was raped, a-and I don’t know where I am-“_

_“Shhh, shhh,” the asanbosam soothed, lightly holding her in a small hug, “It’s okay, you’re safe now. Come on, let’s you get out of here.”_

_He led her to the passenger side and opened the door for her. After Clawdeen got in, he slammed the door and quickly rushed around to his side, hurriedly putting on his seatbelt and putting the car in drive before getting back onto the road._

_“Thank you, thank you so much,” Clawdeen said in between her sobs. She suddenly became overwhelmed at the relief that flooded through her veins._

_The driver asked, “What’s your name?”_

_“C-Clawdeen,” she gasped out, “Clawdeen Wolf.”_

_“Clawdeen…oh,” the driver remarked, as if he’d made a connection, “Well, don’t worry, you’re in good hands. I’m just gonna have someone look over you and then you’ll be back home in no time, okay?”_

_“Thank you,” Clawdeen repeated, wiping her runny nose with the back of her hand._

_The asanbosam switched on his turn signal and got into the left lane, of which branched off from the carpool lane to an exit. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone, taking his eyes away from the windshield for a moment to scroll through his contacts list._

_“Hello?” he talked into it, “Hey, it’s me. Yeah, I’ve got a girl here with me. She looks like she just got out of somewhere rough.”_

_Clawdeen watched as he listened to the person on the other end. “Yeah. Uh, a werewolf. Brown fur, yellow eyes. Teenager. Yeah, I think it’s her. She’s from…”_

_He leaned towards her. “Where you from, kid?”_

_“O-Oregon,” Clawdeen said._

_She wondered who he was talking to on the other end. Was he a police officer? Some sort of social worker? She felt her chest tighten as a surge of hope overcame her. He said he was taking her to the hospital._

_Once they got there and the doctors saw everything that had been done to her, she could tell them everything. They could get in contact with her family, and she could finally be home. She’d finally be back home…_

_“Oregon,” the asanbosam repeated, “Yep…I don’t know, I found her running down the exit to the interstate…Well, I don’t have his number…You’ll do that?....Okay, I’ll be right there. Yeah, bye.”_

_He hung up and took the exit. Clawdeen felt her heart leap as she saw a sign near the ramp that stated the nearest hospital was only two miles away, at the next right._

_To her confusion, however, the asanbosam didn’t go right. Instead, he went straight, before turning left at the stop sign that pulled up. The road he went down was dark, with no streetlights to illuminate the lanes, the trees on either side a blob of jet black under the moon._

_Clawdeen’s puzzlement grew as he made a turn into what looked to be the parking area of a rest stop. It was nearly empty, save for a few semis that were gearing up to leave and a single car. The asanbosam pulled into the parking spot next to the car._

_“What…w-what are you doing?” Clawdeen asked, “Y-You said you were taking me to have someone look at me.”_

_“And I am,” the asanbosam said, “Have to make sure you’re the right one and not someone else’s chick.”_

_She gaped at him, unable to comprehend what he meant. Before she could ask him to elaborate, she heard someone grab the door handle on her side and pull it open._

_The man standing next to the car was a tall alligator-like cryptid. He had an angular jaw and a slender nose, his slightly long, dark red hair brushed back to keep out of his eyes, which were an eerie dark green, almost the same shade as his green, scaly skin. Jagged teeth poked out between his lips._

_Clawdeen felt her heart turn to ice as she realized she recognized him._

_He was at the showcase. Grady, she remembered, was his name. He was the pimp of Ruby and Clarissa, as well as Shelby, the sea monster who’d gotten on Clawdeen. She’d seen him a couple times around the apartment complex as well, whenever he was dropping the girls off or picking them up as Aran did the same to her._

_Which meant he knew Aran. And if he knew Aran, and he was here, that meant…_

_Clawdeen whipped around to face the asanbosam, pressing her back against the seat in terror._

_Any joy she had felt had the prospect of potentially getting rescued melted away as the realization she’d fallen into a trap caused spikes of fear to pierce her in the chest._

_Grady clicked his tongue in dismay. “Selena,” he said, “What a surprise. Leaving so soon?”_

_Clawdeen gawked at him, failing to respond as a few pitiful whimpers escaped her. She pressed herself further into the seat._

_The asanbosam leaned over to look at Grady. “She the one?”_

_“Yep,” Grady sighed, “She’s Aran’s bitch, all right. Just got here last week. Where’d you find her?”_

_“All the way down near I-66. I was about to head to the warehouse and spotted her playing hitchhiker,” the asanbosam nodded towards Clawdeen, “You sure you can take her?”_

_“Yeah, I’ve got to get the stable back anyway,” he said, “I let him know what happened, though. He says he’ll be there in a little bit.”_

_They talked like she wasn’t even there. Clawdeen stared between them, her claws digging and ripping into the upholstery._

_He…he tricked her. He wasn’t there to help. He was working for them…for Aran._

_And Clawdeen had played right into their hands…again. Just like she had with Gem._

_“Well, I’ll take her off her hands now,” Grady said, tapping the roof of the car._

_“You need help?” the asanbosam asked._

_Grady shook his head. “Naw, she don’t look like she weighs much._

_“Come on, Selena,” he said, grabbing her wrist._

_Clawdeen shook her head in refusal. She tried to tug herself free, but the gator’s grip was like iron as he yanked her from the car and started dragging her to his._

_“Hey, no, uh-uh-uh,” Grady said as she struggled against him, making him hold her tightly to his chest, her arms bound at her sides, “No funny business.”_

_Clawdeen froze as she felt him press a knife against her neck. She stopped fighting immediately as her hands flew up to grasp his arm._

_“I don’t want to hurt you, girl,” Grady whispered to her, “But if you try anything, I won’t hesitate. Understand?”_

_Slowly, fear making her eyes the size of plates, Clawdeen nodded. Muttering a ‘good,’ Grady roughly guided her to his car, where he pulled the back door open and shoved her inside._

_As he slammed the door, Clawdeen felt her arm brush another person’s. She looked up to see Ruby and Clarissa in the backseat with her, while Shelby occupied the passenger seat up front. All three were staring at her, the former two’s expressions frightened and wary, while Shelby just looked annoyed._

_Clarissa mumbled to her, “You shouldn’t have run away, Selena. Now your master’s going to be really mad.”_

_“I wasn’t exactly planning on coming back,” Clawdeen hissed._

_Grady slid into his seat and started the car back up._

_“No one goes anywhere else, tonight,” he said, “We’re going back to where I know I can keep an eye on all of you.”_

_“Yes, sir,” the three girls said in unison._

_The drive was unbearably silent, which did nothing to Clawdeen’s nerves. She looked out the window to watch the streetlights pass by as uneasiness began to settle on her._

_She failed. She wasn’t careful enough- she should’ve just kept running until she found the hospital herself, or spent the night in the woods, or just found a nearby gas station where she could call the police. But she wasn’t, and like an idiot, she trusted the first person who looked like they had only good intentions._

_And now, she was right back at square one._

_All of that, for nothing._

_Now, Aran knew, and was coming back to most likely confront her about it._

_At the thought of the satyr, Clawdeen felt herself become anxious. Her hands started to shake, while her heart fluttered rapidly in a way that was almost painful. Her breathing became shallow and quick, like she couldn’t quite catch her breath. The soles of her feet bled and ached from scraping against the rough ground. The heat that she’d generated from running had now dissipated, leaving her to shiver in the small confines of the car._

_What would Aran do to her, when he saw her again? The words from the first night he’d taken her echoed in her mind. “I know exactly where to make it hurt”, was what he said._

_Clawdeen didn’t want to be around to find out how accurate that statement was._

_It didn’t take long to get back to the apartment complex. The girls got out silently, while Grady grabbed Clawdeen from the backseat and lugged her up the stairs._

_“I gotta admit, I’m curious as to how the hell you got out,” he commented as he dragged her to the apartment that was deemed hers, “Unless Aran somehow forgot to lock the door, all of them have deadbolts on them.”_

_He grabbed the doorknob and pushed it open, shoving Clawdeen inside. She stumbled as she lost her footing, letting out a yelp as she landed on her side, her wrist bending at an uncomfortable angle as it took her full weight._

_“What the hell?” she heard Grady say, “How did you…?”_

_She looked over to see him bend down and grab the fallen knob, where he observed it in astonishment._

_Grady leaned back in the doorway and looked to the right. “Oi, James, come look at this!”_

_The weretiger appeared a second later, looking exasperated as he peered in._

_“What are you-“ he began to ask, before he saw the loose knob in the gator’s hand. His brow knit together in bewilderment and he shot a look to Clawdeen._

_“How…”_

_Grady looked around on the floor, before his eyes landed upon the letter opener that lay discarded nearby._

_“Aw,” he said, bending down to pick it up. He looked at Clawdeen as he held it up._

_“Gotta admit, that’s pretty clever,” he said, “Finding your own makeshift screwdriver. Looks like Aran will have to check your pockets now.”_

_He picked up the screws from the floor and put the knob back in against the hole, using the blade of his own switchblade- the one he’d threatened Clawdeen with- to twist it back into place. Clawdeen just watched, afraid to make any sudden moves around the two men. James just shook his head at her as he crossed his arms._

_“I can’t wait see how Aran tames a wereslut like you,” he said lowly. Clawdeen felt her stomach churn at the words._

_After the doorknob was back in place, Grady turned it to make sure it was secure, before he pocketed the letter opener and turned to walk out._

_“I’ll be taking this in case you have some kind of back up plan,” he said, “And next time, if you’re going to try and be stupid, do it on your own master’s watch, will you? I don’t want to have to pick up after Aran all the time._

_“And don’t think about leaving again,” he added, “There’s other guys watching the building right now.”_

_They both walked out and shut the door, leaving Clawdeen alone in the apartment. She stayed on the floor, her body trembling as her hands dug into the carpet._

_“Selena?” she suddenly heard Vixen’s voice, “Are you there?”_

_Clawdeen looked over at the vent. She wiped her eyes and crawled over, answering, “Y-Yeah, I’m here…”_

_“Is it true?” Vixen asked, her voice almost a whisper, “Did you…really try to escape?”_

_“Yeah. T-They caught me by the highway,” Clawdeen admitted, “I thought…I thought he was going to help…”_

_Vixen explained, “Yeah, they-they have guys patrolling the streets at night. To keep surveillance, in case there’s any cops in the area. They also do t-to make sure we- me and Kimber and the other girls- that we’re not up to something when we have to work the streets.”_

_“I was so close…” Clawdeen said tearfully, “I thought I made it. I thought I was finally gonna get to go home...”_

_“I know,” Vixen said sympathetically._

_“A-And now,” Clawdeen sobbed, “Now he-h-he’s on his way. What if…what’s he going to do to me?”_

_Vixen responded, “Selena, listen to me. Y-You have to calm down, okay? Just take some deep breaths.”_

_Dimly, Clawdeen noted how she didn’t say it was going to be okay, or that it was fine. She hugged her knees; she desperately wished she had her mom with her right now, to take her into her arms where she always felt safe, to kiss her and reassure her. Even with the Chupacabra on the other end, Clawdeen couldn’t remember feeling so alone._

_Her ears twitched as she suddenly heard a car swerve from down below. It was followed by a door slamming, before heavy footsteps started making their way up the stairs. Clawdeen’s breath hitched as she heard them come closer. She started to crawl backward as she heard them stop right outside, before the doorknob began to rattle violently._

_The door swung open, revealing a disheveled and furious Aran. His eyes were stormy and malicious as they landed on Clawdeen. The werewolf stilled; she felt small and weak under his gaze. Like she was a bug he was waiting to crush under his boot._

_Aran pointed at her._

_“Come here,” he said coldly, “Right now.”_

_Though she felt frozen in place by his glare, Clawdeen slowly got to her feet, her legs shaking badly, and, with great hesitance, moved to stand in front of him. She kept her head down, unable to bear the satyr’s harsh scowl. Her fingers clenched the hem of her shirt._

**_SMACK_ **

_Her cheek stung and felt hot. Clawdeen flinched immediately, bringing a hand up to hold her face as she looked at Aran with fear._

_“You stupid cunt,” Aran said, stepping towards her, “Thought you were being real fucking clever, didn’t you? Didn’t you, you fucking WHORE!”_

_He balled his fist and punched her in the stomach. Clawdeen doubled over, gasping as the blow knocked the wind out of her. She had no chance to recover, before Aran hit her in the face, sending an explosion of pain through her jaw; her fangs sliced into her lower lip, and she tasted copper as blood filled her mouth._

_She fell into the side of the coffee table, crying out as the corner jabbed her in the side. She slumped to the floor, tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin, only to let out a harsh scream as something suddenly struck her right below her ribcage. Pain bloomed in the area like a bomb going off, shooting all the way down to her bones._

_It happened again, this time getting her in the arm. Clawdeen screamed again and looked up, holding out her arm in protection._

_Aran grasped his belt in his hand. The look on his face was murderous as he swung his arm back and brought it down so that the end of his metal buckle collided with her back; Clawdeen jerked and yelled out in pain._

_“You stupid fucking bitch, you think you can run away from me?” Aran growled, swinging the belt again, “You fucking stupid dog, you fucking hair-brained slut!”_

_He swung it again and again, using it as a makeshift whip as the thin leather slapped at Clawdeen’s skin and the buckle dug into her flesh, giving rise to thick red welts all over her body._

_“STOP!” Clawdeen begged, curling into a ball to try and protect her head, “STOP! STOP!”_

_“Shut the fuck up,” Aran snapped._

_He kicked her right in the stomach, the pain equivalent to that of a white-hot poker being shoved into Clawdeen’s side. She shrieked and curled up, only to feel Aran dig a hand into her hair and pull her to her feet by its roots, hard enough that she could feel some strands rip right from her scalp._

_He threw her into the wall; Clawdeen grit her teeth as her backside took most of the force. Her tailbone throbbed with pain._

_She screamed as Aran hit her with the belt again, his aim blind as he struck her in the back, the arms, the chest. Clawdeen cowered against the wall, unable to shelter herself from the relentless object._

_“Fucking stupid whore!” Aran cursed, “You want to fuck with me?! You try to leave ME?!”_

_“Get away from me!” Clawdeen cried._

_She pushed herself off the wall and stumbled away, intent on only putting some distance between them and finally getting away from the satyr’s belt, but Aran grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back._

_“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, bitch?” Aran questioned, “Get back here!”_

_He slammed her into the wall again and dropped his belt to punch her in the face. Clawdeen wailed, the pain dizzying._

_He held here there and continued to beat her for several minutes. Clawdeen screamed the whole time, pleading for him to stop and trying to break free from his grip to no avail, causing the satyr to beat her harder._

_“What the fuck were you thinking?” Aran asked demandingly, “Just what the fuck were you hoping to accomplish?”_

_“I want to go home!” Clawdeen wailed, trying to free her curls from his grip, “I don’t want to be here!”_

_“I frankly don’t give a shit what you want,” Aran bit back._

_He kneeled down and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her face nears his and keeping her against the wall._

_“Listen to me, listen to me!” he commanded as Clawdeen struggled, “You told me your real name, didn’t you? Clawdeen Wolf, right? You know the kinds of things I can do with that alone? I can easily track down your whole family and ruin their fucking lives!”_

_Clawdeen paused at the mention of her family. She looked into his eyes fearfully. Aran nodded, satisfied that he had her full attention._

_“You think I’m joking?” he said, “One phone call, Selena, that’s all I need. One phone call, and I can have every one of those motherfuckers dead on the spot, have every one of your sisters and brothers in the business, just like you! You want that?_

_“Think about it, think about that really fucking hard, Selena,” he growled, “Little monster girls are VERY high demand these days.”_

_Horror filled Clawdeen’s face. The thought of her parents being dead, of her siblings being in her current position, terrified her to the very core. Her younger siblings’ faces flashed through her mind- mischievous Barker, sweet little Pawla; Weredith and Packlynn, who were both barely a year old, the rest of the pups that were naïve and annoying and kind and sweet._

_To even think of the men who forced themselves upon her doing the same to them…_

_Clawdeen felt sick to her stomach._

_She stared at Aran, her lip trembling._

_“P-Please no,” she pleaded, “Not them. Please, don’t hurt them.”_

_Aran got in her face. “Then don’t ever do something stupid like this again, you hear me? Or next time I’ll make sure they’ll get a first row seat to watch the next person who fucks you raw.”_

_He slapped her and shoved her to the floor, standing up straight as he watched the teen werewolf bury her face in her arms as she cried. The back of her shirt was torn so that it hung off her left shoulder, exposing her red and welting shoulder. Criss-crossing marks ran down her legs. There was blood dotting her shorts._

_“Look at you, you’re pathetic,” Aran spit, “You think anyone wants you after all this? That Mommy and Daddy will welcome you back into their arms when they hear how their little prom queen knows how to swallow? Get real. You’re disgusting, you’re worthless! Nothing but a sniveling little piece of shit!”_

_The words cut Clawdeen deeply. She sobbed harder._

_“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”_

_Aran scoffed and shook his head. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be. I’ve been too nice to you. Way too fucking easy on your screwups. Now, I’ll make sure you really learn.”_

_He trekked over to her and seized her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Clawdeen whimpered in fear as he dragged her to the floor by the mattress and threw her onto the ground next to it, before dropping to his knees._

_“Get this fucking shit off,” he said, forcing her onto her stomach as he ripped the fabric of her shirt._

_Clawdeen squirmed under him, clawing helplessly at the carpet as he pulled her clothes off, dreading whatever idea he had in store for her._

_She suddenly felt him shove his way inside her. Clawdeen screeched as she felt herself rip and tear, shockwaves of agony rolling through her body._

_“Yeah, scream, you little bitch,” Aran growled, grabbing her arm and hair as he began to roughly thrust his hips, “Fucking scream!”_

_“Ah!” Clawdeen shouted, “Stop! Stop! Please, oh god, stop!”_

* * *

 

_Next door, Vixen and Kimber lay under the covers of their shared mattress. The living room was dark, the two of them facing away from the wall as the commotion from the other room echoed throughout the small apartment._

_“Get on your fucking knees, right now,” they could Aran order, “Now fucking walk. Walk like the fucking dirty little dog you are, bitch! Walk!”_

_They could hear Selena crying in response. She interrupted herself with a loud bawl, as if she had been hit._

_“I said, WALK!” Aran yelled._

_Vixen lay closest to the wall. She was on her side, motionless under the blanket as she stared ahead at the couch. She could feel Kimber trembling next to her, the smaller girl curled into a ball as she lay with her back to Vixen’s chest._

_Every time Selena yelled, Kimber curled into herself more. Vixen could hear small whimpers escape her, along with little sniffles that indicated the Irish monster was crying._

_Something hard banged against the wall; Selena let out a harsh “ow!” seconds later._

_Kimber continued to shake as she cried. She held her hands to her chest, too scared to even wipe her eyes, as if doing so could be sensed by Aran and that somehow that would trigger James barging in. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard Selena cry out again, hunching up her shoulders as she tried to fall asleep._

_Vixen continued to stare at the couch. Her gaze was vacant, emotionless at what was going on the other side of the wall._

__Slowly, she slid her hands out from under the blanket and pressed them to her ears, muffling Selena’s cries and screams from her hearing._ _

* * *

 

_“Ow, ow, PLEASE! Please stop, I’ll be good! No, no! AH!”_

_Selena’s voice rang out all the way to the end of the building. She was a few rooms away, but the thin walls and ventilation system carried the sounds all the way throughout the whole complex._

_Grady’s girls lay on separate mattresses, each in a separate corner of the room and facing away from the others as they lay still as statues in the dark._

_Ruby pulled the covers closer around her. She glanced at the walls fearfully, her stomach clenching at every heartbreaking sound she heard Selena made. She cowered at a particularly high-pitched scream and huddled into her blanket, whimpering as she shut her eyes._

_Clarissa twisted her blankets about herself so that she was almost cocooned within them; she hugged her pillow tightly as she tried to doze off, though she flinched whenever something or someone banged against the walls._

_Shelby sat up on her mattress, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared blankly out into the darkness, showing no reaction to the sounds of the abuse the werewolf was enduring._

_“It’s her fault,” she said, “She should’ve known better to try and run. She was stupid for thinking she could escape.”_

_Neither Ruby nor Clarissa responded. It was hard to tell whether the sea monster was saying this as a means to drive a point home to them, or possibly if she was just trying to reassure herself._

_Either way, nobody made a move. They just all stayed in their beds, trying to go to sleep despite the ruckus._

* * *

_Starla sat up on her mattress, knees bent on in front of her as her hands hung between her knees, a cigarette in her right. The lamp on the floor next to her was turned on, casting a small orange glow through the room. She took a drag, slowly inhaling the smoke and closing her eyes, savoring it before she exhaled it back out._

_“Spread your legs,” she heard Aran command from the wall behind her._

_Selena responded, “N-No, please, no.”_

_“Spread. Your. Legs,” Aran repeated, this time with more force._

_“P-Please, M-Master, I’ll do anything else! Please just not that! I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please just not-“_

_“Selena, I swear to fucking Pan, if you don’t listen to me, it’ll be a piece of glass, now spread your fucking legs!” Aran spat._

_Starla’s grip on her cigarette tightened as she heard the werewolf weep. Afterward, Selena let out a yelp, which quickly grew in tone, like whatever Aran was doing to her was getting more and more painful._

_“Ah!” she screamed, “A-Ah, ow! OW! OW! PLEASE, STOP! IT HURTS!”_

_“All the fucking way,” Aran just responded, “You like that, you dirty slut? Look at you, all fucking dripping. Filthy whore.”_

_It had been nonstop for the past hour; whatever Selena had done to piss him off, Aran had been relentless towards her in whatever the hell he was doing, and she’d been screaming and crying loud enough to wake the undead. Her voice reached such octaves that Starla swore it could’ve been heard by the animals in the woods a few miles over._

_Putting the cigarette out in the ashtray, Starla turned out the light and lay on her side, pulling the quilt up to her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, only to jump as Selena let out a bloodcurdling screech, as if she was getting murdered._

_Starla clenched her teeth. She put her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth as she tried to will the noise away._

_“Shut up,” she muttered, “Just shut up, kid. J-Just shut up already…”_

* * *

 

_Aran shoved her away from him and stood up. He looked down at the werewolf hatefully as he gathered his shirt, pulling his arms through the sleeves before he reached down to redo his fly. Clawdeen lay at his feet, weeping pitifully._

_The satyr sneered as he shook his head at her, his expression one of disgust. After two hours, he’d finally ran out of steam, but his anger was still so great that it didn’t feel like enough._

_Clawdeen didn’t move. She lay on her stomach, sniveling as she tried to catch her breath. She ached all over, inside and out. It felt like she’d just been run over by a steamroller and then thrown into a pit of spikes._

_She was naked, her shirt and shorts now little more than scraps of fabric lying around on the floor from where Aran had ripped them off her. Her bare body was now covered in a multitude of injuries- welts and bruises discolored her brown skin with patches of bright red and dark purple. Both her eyes were almost swollen shut, the skin around them dark reddish-violet and swollen. Her nose and mouth were both bleeding, her bottom lip cut in one corner. Her left eyebrow was split, with blood coagulating around the area and running down the left side of her face. Blood ran down the back of her thighs and between her legs. Marks in the shape of handprints made impressions on her hips and arms._

_Her stomach and backside hurt. It was nearly impossible to move her legs, every little inch sending sharp stings up her spine._

_The first night he took her, Aran had told her was trying to be nice._

_Tonight, he made sure he was rough. That it hurt. That she bled._

_And then he used a bottle. And the broomstick in the closet. And whatever else had been lying around that he saw fit…_

_As he buttoned his shirt back up, Aran finally spoke._

_“You think I’m being mean now, but I can assure you, it can be so much worse,” he said, “There are men out there who would gladly do this to you every fucking night.  Men who’d piss on you, shit on you, cut your fingers off and record you getting fucked by animals. Is that what you want? Having a Rottweiler’s cock shoved up your pussy every night?”_

_Clawdeen sniffled, “N-N-No…”_

_“Didn’t think so.”_

_He stared at her a moment longer, before he sneered and gave her a sharp kick to the ribs. Clawdeen cried out and curled into a ball, her hands covering her face._

_Aran grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Clawdeen struggled to keep up as he dragged her into the hallway, where he opened the door to the bathroom and shoved her in. She stumbled onto the floor, barely avoiding smacking her face against the side of the bathtub._

_“You’re going to stay in here tonight,” Aran said as he grasped the handle, “Until you can learn to be a good girl.”_

_He then shut the door, leaving her encased in darkness. Clawdeen heard him come back a second later and press something up against it._

_Clawdeen swallowed as she stared at the door. The cold of the bathroom tile crept into her body, chilling her._

_Everything was all too much. Her whole body hurt and she felt sick and gross and she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to do everything and yet nothing at the same time. She felt dizzy and wanted to throw up but there was nothing in her stomach. Her head swam, intensifying her nausea, and millions of things raced through her mind within seconds as her thoughts tried to gather themselves._

_Her chest began to heave. Clawdeen could feel her throat closing up, like she couldn’t quite breathe right. She was dimly aware she was wheezing. Her chest hurt._

_She collapsed onto her side as the panic attack hit her full force. Everything became a blur and her senses were numbed to everything around them. Clawdeen felt as if she were going insane, all her thoughts jumbling together and mixing around like a fever dream, as if her mind had become the inside of a kaleidoscope. For a minute, she thought she was probably dying- maybe Aran had kicked her hard enough to puncture her lungs and that’s why she couldn’t breathe._

_She didn’t know how much time had passed when she finally calmed down, but when Clawdeen found that she could focus again, she was shivering. It was freezing in the bathroom. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to get warm, but her fingertips were cold, so it brought little use._

_Letting out a shaky breath, Clawdeen grabbed the edge of the tub to use as support and pulled herself to her feet. She winced as she felt another dull twinge of pain between her legs at the effort. She staggered forward to the sink, which she leaned against as she reached forward to turn on the light._

_She barely recognized herself in the mirror’s reflection. Both of her eyes were blackened, and the sclera of her right one was bright red from a broken blood vessel. Her cheek was swollen, like that of a chipmunk with food in its mouth. Dried blood coated her eyebrow, upper lip, and chin. Her lips were so swollen that they jutted out like an obnoxious clip art design, her natural pink pigment having darkened to a grotesque raisin color, like she’d undergone a botched lip injection. Her hair was in disarray. There was an ache in the back of her mouth from where the filling in one of her teeth had been knocked loose._

_Clawdeen could see her eyes watering, the sight about to send her into another panic. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, though, she steadily tried to keep herself composed, before looking back into the mirror._

_She reached up and touched the bridge of her nose. It was tender, but she didn’t think it was broken. Peering into her reflection’s eyes, she switched the lights on and off, testing the dilation of her pupils. She didn’t seem to have a concussion, although there was a sharp ache that persisted in her side, suggesting she probably had a broken rib or two, if not a few that were bruised. Either way, she knew she needed to rest and finally allow her sore body to relax._

_Clawdeen sighed. For a moment, it seemed like she’d aged twenty years. There was a weary, defeated look in her eyes that she didn’t recognize. She felt as if she was looking at a total stranger._

_Looking away, Clawdeen turned on the faucet, cupping some water in her hands and bending over to wash the blood off her face. She tore off some toilet paper from the nearly empty roll near the toilet and wet it, before gently dabbing it against the cut in her brow and lip._

_Once her face was clean, she ran her mouth under the tap and took some gulps of water to drink, the ice cold temperature soothing to her raw throat. She then wiped her mouth and used the toilet, before limping over to the bathtub, where she slowly climbed in and turned the tap on._

_The cold water made goosebumps break out on her skin, but Clawdeen tried her best to ignore it as she washed the blood and ejaculate fluid from her legs. After that was finished, she grabbed the lone towel from the rack and wrapped herself in it. By now, her toes and fingertips were numb._

_Carefully getting out of the tub, Clawdeen looked back towards the door. She decided to test out whether or not it was actually locked._

_She gripped the handle and pushed down. It wouldn’t budge. Aran had probably put a chair or something under it to barricade it. It was official- she was stuck in this room for the night, if not longer._

_Clawdeen wrapped the towel closer around her and looked out the small window on the wall. The glass in it was frosted, preventing her from getting a clear view of what lay outside, but she could still make out the blurry light of the moon._

_A lump appeared in her throat as she looked at it. All her life, she’d looked to as a symbol of protection, a source of strength from the lunar and wolf deities to watch over all wolves and creatures of the night, to shield them and guide them in the darkness._

_Now, though, as she gazed upon it, all Clawdeen could feel was betrayal and a sense of abandonment._

_“Why?” she asked it, “Why have you forsaken me like this?”_

_Not that she expected an answer. Wiping her eyes, Clawdeen turned away from the window and lowered herself onto the floor. Using the towel as a makeshift blanket, she curled in on herself and wrapped it tightly around her, trying her best to stay warm despite the chill of the bathroom._

_Exhausted from the strenuous activity her body had been put through in the past few hours, Clawdeen felt a single tear fall down her cheek as she quickly fell into a deep sleep._

* * *

 

_Around her, the world outside slowly began to wake up. She could hear people on the floor above her walking around, while down below someone had their washing machine going and a TV playing._

_Clawdeen slowly came to, huddling her knees closer to her chest. She pulled the towel tighter around her, not wanting to leave the fog of dreamland just yet. The floor wasn’t at all comfortable, but her joints had become stiff from their overnight bent position, and she didn’t want to deal with the soreness from it just yet._

_Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of someone opening a door somewhere nearby. She lifted her head as she realized it was coming from inside the apartment. Her fingers clenched into the terrycloth as she heard footsteps approach; it could only be one person._

_The door opened. Aran stepped into the bathroom. He looked like he was about to go in for a meeting, his attire that of an ironed blue shirt tucked into grey slacks with a matching vest and a dark burgundy tie around his neck. His gaze was stony as he caught her eye._

_“Get dressed,” was all he said._

_Clawdeen pushed herself off from the floor and scurried past him, her head down in a submissive gesture. She quickly picked out a dress and undergarments from the clothes pile and began pulling them on, hurrying despite the protest from her aching muscles._

_“And put on some makeup, you look like shit,” Aran called from the hallway._

_A tiny voice in Clawdeen’s head bit back, ‘And who’s fault is that?’_

_But she kept silent- she needed to get back in the satyr’s good graces and talking back obviously was not going to get her there. She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, and walked back to the bathroom._

_Aran leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched her. Clawdeen tried to ignore the way she felt his eyes on her as she grabbed the small bag of things he’d bought for her a few days previous._

_Her face didn’t look much better, although some of the swelling had gone down. Clawdeen pumped out some foundation onto a small makeup sponge and tried her best to cover up the discoloration under her eyes and around her mouth. She didn’t know what to do about the cut at the corner of her mouth, but applied some lip gloss in hope that it could disguise it._

_“We need to talk,” Aran spoke up, watching her from the mirror. Clawdeen paused, listening in._

_“You need to start pulling your weight around here,” he explained, “I have other shit I need to worry about besides organizing all your appointments. Besides, it’s your responsibility to meet your quota, so you need to start getting out there and finding yourself some guys.”_

_“How…” Clawdeen hesitated, unsure if she was allowed to speak, “H-How would I do that?”_

_Aran gave her an annoyed look, like the answer was obvious. It made her feel stupid. “The same way the other girls here do. You go on the street and wait for until some guy passes by willing to pay for a quickie.”_

_“By…by myself?” Clawdeen asked, “I…I can do that?”_

_“I don’t know, can you?” Aran snapped, “Or do I have to keep a fucking eye on you all the time like some goddamned kindergartner? Because with the shit you pulled last night, I have half a mind to fucking chain you up in the basement from now on.”_

_Clawdeen winced. She berated herself- the last thing she wanted was to get Aran upset, especially with the day just beginning._

_“I’m sorry, Daddy, I really am,” she apologized._

_“Yeah, I bet you are,” Aran said smugly, “You bitches are all the same. You love walking around acting like you’re hot shit, and then the second things don’t go your way, then you’re all conveniently ‘sorry’.”_

_Clawdeen bit her lip. She didn’t know how to respond to that, if she should. She looked down at her feet, feeling as if she was about to cry._

_Aran sighed, “No matter. You’re not going to be hooking any time soon. I don’t trust you not to try something again, so until I think you mean it, you’re going to be staying right where I know you’ll be. Understand?”_

_Clawdeen felt her shoulders drop. Everything was going wrong. She didn’t want to start off the day with him already pissed off. She didn’t even plan on even still being here by this morning, having wanted to be back home already._

_But what did she know? She thought she had a solid escape route, and she messed it all up by trusting the first fucking person who looked like they had morals, like a damn idiot. She’d trusted Gem without even one second thought as to the suspicious nature of the fairy, and now she was in this mess._

_She let herself get captured, all because she was stupid enough to think that all these fucking red flags were in good nature. Gods, it was basic stranger danger, something that her toddler-aged siblings understood, and Clawdeen couldn’t even get that right._

_Maybe Aran was right. Maybe she really was pathetic._

_“Now,” Aran said, his voice much calmer, “Let’s get going.”_

_“Yes, Daddy,” Clawdeen replied softly._

_Neither said a word as Aran drove them to the man’s house. It was a smaller one, a one-story out in almost the middle of nowhere._

_“Hello!” the fire elemental client greeted warmly after Aran rang the doorbell, his bright smile a stark contrast to the two monsters’ frowns._

_He brought Clawdeen to his bedroom and had her sit on the bed while he gave counted out the money to Aran. After showing the satyr out, he returned and carefully closed the door behind him, leaving him and Clawdeen alone. The bedroom was dark, the shades having been drawn._

_He beamed at Clawdeen, his cheeks red and round like he was Santa Claws._

_Clawdeen smiled back, although something about his body language put her on edge._

_“So,” he said, “I heard a little pup tried to get out last night?”_

_Clawdeen’s stomach flipped. Her hackles raised as she saw the flicker in his eyes. “Um…”_

_“I thought you looked a little rough around the edges when Aran brought you,” he continued, “I don’t mind. I’ve always liked my whores to be a bit wrecked when they come in. Adds a bit of spice to everything.”_

_He walked to the safe on the far side of his wall and unlocked it, pulling out a sleek black object out. Clawdeen felt terror wash over her when she realized it was a flogging cane._

_“However, some extra punishment’s never hurt,” he said, holding the cane up, “Just an extra precaution, to make sure you filthy whores really do learn your place.”_

_He pointed the end at her. “Now, take your clothes off and bend over.”_

_A shudder went through Clawdeen as her body went tense. She dreaded what was to come next, already imagining just how painful the blunt whack of the hard cane against her skin._

_But the glint in the fire elemental’s eyes let her know that he wouldn’t accept any resistance, so she obeyed him, her hands shaking as she slid off her dress and bent over the bed._

_The first few days, when she had first woken up in Gem’s house and the pain began, she had prayed that it would be over soon, that someone, somewhere out there, was listening in and that they’d send her a sign that this nightmare would all be over._

_Now, though, as the fire elemental struck her, and she howled and cried through the unbearable pain that was delivered to her already beaten body, Clawdeen began to think that the nightmare had just begun._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Have to say, I'm a little proud of myself on this one. It turned out relatively the same way I envisioned it to, and I'm rather impressed that I managed to write so much in a smaller frame of time compared to how long it usually takes me (I wrote five pages in a day at one point!)
> 
> Anyways, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, as always.


	8. Chapter 7: A Battle of Wills

_(Now…)_

For a moment, Clawdeen could almost pretend like she was going on a date.

So far, it’d been an easy day; she didn’t have any clients for that morning, so she had a rare occurrence of being able to sleep in. Not only that, but while she was brushing her teeth, Aran had called her to tell her they had a “special occasion” tonight, so she only had to work the street for a couple of hours, compared to most nights. He wouldn’t tell her exactly what was going on- not that she suspected it to be any different from the other meetings she’d had- only that she was to wear her best clothes and be on her absolute best behavior.

Clawdeen looked down at herself as she thought about that comment. Admittedly, she was a little proud of how her outfit had turned out; she had gone with the dark blue velvet dress that she knew was a favorite of Aran’s- the one with long sleeves and a lace-up front. She’d paired it with the holographic heels he’d gotten for her a few days ago, along with a sapphire necklace and studs, and did her makeup with cool tones to go with the dress.

She was wondering if her choice of dark blue eyeshadow would’ve been a bit of overkill, but the second Aran laid eyes on her that night, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

 _“Is this okay, Daddy?”_ she’d asked him.

Aran had smiled like he’d won the jackpot. “ _Better than okay. You look like a movie star; a really sexy one, at that. You always know how to make a statement.”_

That had made her blush. Clawdeen remembered how she smiled, feeling rather flattered by his words. Though a part of her knew that he probably didn’t really mean, she couldn’t help the small flutter in her chest in the moment.

He made her feel…really pretty.

And that was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Aran didn’t look half bad himself, she had to admit. His hair was combed back, while he wore a simple burgundy button down and some black jeans, along with some matching sneakers. From an outsider’s perspective, they could’ve easily been dismissed as just another couple heading out for a night on the town.

“Sir, could I ask a question?” Clawdeen spoke up.

“Sure,” Aran said.

“Who exactly are we meeting?”

Aran answered, “Just some old friends of mine from college. They just moved up here and wanted to catch up. To be honest, they can both be a little weird, so if something catches you off guard, it’s probably just them.”

Clawdeen nodded, turning her attention back to the road, observing the neighborhood they entered.

They pulled up to a modest looking two-story home that had a menagerie of lawn ornaments piled up on front. Aran parked and led her up to the porch; as they approached, someone peeked through the curtains, before the front door opened without them having to knock.

A ghost woman greeted them, her grey lips quirked up in a wild smile as she held her arms out to Aran.

“Hello, hello!” she said warmly, enveloping the satyr in a hug, “It’s so good to see you!”

Aran hugged her back. “Hey, Blanchette. How’s it been?”

“Oh, you know, busy,” the ghost answered, “What with unpacking and trying to get familiar with the area and the cats settled and everything.”

She turned to Clawdeen. Her icy blue eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands to her chest, her face lighting up with joy at the sight of the werewolf.

“And this must be who you were talking about!” she exclaimed, “Oh, she’s beautiful!”

In spite of herself, Clawdeen found herself blushing.

“Didn’t I tell you I could deliver?” Aran said with a smirk.

“Oh, yes!” the ghost agreed. She gently grabbed Clawdeen’s hand and led her inside, Aran following close behind as the ghost waved at someone out of view.

“Alastor! Aran’s here! Look who he brought!” she called out, positioning Clawdeen at the front of the stairs.

Another ghost came walking out of the kitchen. His head perked up in the direction of Aran and Clawdeen; Clawdeen noticed how his eyes went up and down at her, clearly examining her body.

“Aran, my man,” he said with a bit of a chuckle, “It’s been too long.”

The two gave a brief hug and pat on the back, before they broke apart, the ghost looking down at Clawdeen with a hint of hunger.

“And who might we have here?” he asked.

Aran put his hand on Clawdeen’s lower back as he introduced her. “This is Selena. You know, my ‘special gift?’”

Both spirits looked at Clawdeen with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Blanchette seemed absolutely giddy for her to be there, like a child who was just given free run in a candy store, while Alastor tilted his head back, faux smugness on his pale mug, trying to act like he wasn’t impressed.

“Well, how special can she be?” he challenged, “’Cuz I’ll let you know, after all the girls we found while we were abroad, my expectations are a little higher than normal.”

“I can be _your_ special little girl,” Clawdeen replied innocently, “I’ll even show you a few of my goodies if you let me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw how Aran smirked darkly at her comment, pleased with her playing along. Both ghosts’ eyes widened in lustful elation, and they shared a look with one another; Blanchette nodded eagerly at her husband.

Alastor let out a scoff of disbelief as he turned back to Clawdeen.

“Well, damn! I guess I’ll just have to take you up on that offer,” he said, “How long have you had this one, Aran?”

“Five years,” Aran said, putting a hand on Clawdeen’s hip possessively, “And she may just be my best one yet.”

“Is that so?” Alastor asked.

He bit his lip, his eyes going back and forth between the two of them like he had an idea. Then, he turned to Aran.

“Well, maybe you could show us just what makes her the best,” he suggested, “You know, let us see firsthand what we’re in for.”

Aran raised his brows. “You want her to go down on me?” he asked, “In front of you two?”

“Yeah, if you’re okay with it,” Alastor said.

Her body language remained passive, but Clawdeen silently wished Aran would be opposed to it and say no.

It was probably ironic, her feeling uncomfortable doing things with him with the two ghosts watching, as if her reason for being here wasn’t literally for one or both of them to fuck her, or she hadn’t done such obscene things in bunch of other people before. She couldn’t quite put it into the words, but when it came to specifically Aran being the one with her, other people watching felt like an intrusion of privacy.

She’d have the same feeling whenever Aran wanted to videotape them. Like there was something between the two of them that was reserved for the two of them only. Something…special.

To even think so was laughable, and the fact that even though she knew this, yet still felt that emotional attachment to him made Clawdeen hate herself even more.

Aran put a finger to his chin in thought.  

“Hmmm,” he hummed, “I’ve never been one for exhibitionism before.”

“There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” Alastor insisted, “Plus, if it means anything, I’m more interested to see how little Selena here performs for her owner.”

Aran looked like he considered it. Finally, he shrugged.

“Aw, what the hell, I’ve been in need of a screw after how shitty this month has been,” he said, turning to Clawdeen and grabbing her hand, “Come on.”

They followed Alastor as he led them into the den area, Blanchette taking up the rear as she floated behind Clawdeen. Her and her husband took seats along the sofa as they watch Aran collapse into the loveseat.

Clawdeen stood in front of him, waiting for his next command. A pang of nervousness went through her- he told her she needed to be especially behaved tonight, and now, she was expected to put on a show as well.

He gazed up at her with half-lidded eyes, the corner of his mouth turned up in a small smirk as he slowly spread his legs out. He slid his hands onto his knees and patted them; Clawdeen immediately knew what he wanted.

“Come here, Selena,” he softly commanded.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Clawdeen lowered herself onto her knees. She put her palms flat on the carpet and slowly, making sure to swing her ass back and forth, crawled towards him.

Once she was to him, she sat up and folded her hands on his knee, resting her cheek against them. Aran looked amused as he reached up and gently stroked her hair, wrapping a few of her curls around his fingers.

“What do you say, baby, are you up for a little playtime?” he asked.

“I’m always up to play with you, Daddy,” Clawdeen answered.

She heard Blanchette suck in a breath, while Alastor let out a low chuckle that sounded like it came deep from within his chest.

“Oh, I’m liking this already,” the latter muttered.

Aran smirked, lightly pulling a strand of hair towards him and letting it bounce back into place. He stroked the back of her head affectionately, before his hand slid downward to cup her cheek. His thumb lightly petted her lips.

“Well, then, let’s show our friends here how much you’ve learned with me over the years,” he said, “Show them what your slutty little mouth can do.”

“Of course, Daddy,” Clawdeen said.

She could feel the ghosts’ gazes burning into her back as she leaned forward and reached for Aran’s buckle, trying to ignore it as she undid his pants.

He wanted her to put on a show, she’d put on a show. She’d do as she was expected, which was everything he asked her to do, and show the ghosts she was his perfect little girl like he proclaimed her to be.

Anything for her master, of course.

* * *

 

 “…I will say, though, she can afford to gain a few more pounds,” Blanchette said, “You should really feed her more, Aran. She’s so small already, one guy may just snap her like a twig one of these days if he’s not careful.”

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one paying extra on your grocery bill,” Aran countered, “Plus, how much she eats is on her. When she meets her quota, she gets food. If she doesn’t, she just has to deal with rationing what she has.”

They discussed her like she wasn’t even there, or like she could hear them even without her advanced hearing. Not that Clawdeen expected them to care; it’s not like she had any kind of say in the conversation.

She listened in from the edge of the railing at the top of the stairs, kneeling so that she could remain out of sight or quickly dart back into the guest bedroom where she was supposed to be in case one of them decided to come upstairs.

After Aran had taken her in front of Blanchette and Alastor- the two watching on while he made her give him a blowjob, then afterward having her be on top while they did it- the two ghosts, now fully in the mood, had gladly taken her upstairs, each having a turn with her while the other talked with Aran on the bottom level.

 When they had finished, they had actually allowed her to use their shower to bathe. Blanchette had even brought her some tea and a snack while she got dressed. Aran had then instructed her to remain in their extra bedroom while the three gathered in the dining room for supper. While she initially obeyed and stayed sitting on the bed, Clawdeen had overheard her name be mentioned and secretly decided to listen in.

“You’ve definitely got her under control. Even moreso than I expected,” Alastor said, “I’ve always heard weregirls are harder to tame than most. How did you do it?”   

 “Well, we definitely had a rough start,” Aran admitted, “A few mishaps that required some…more than stern discipline. But she learned soon enough to shape up.”

Clawdeen winced, remembering the ‘mishaps’ he was talking about. That, and the punishment that came with them. The worst ones had occurred so many years ago, but she could still every sting and pang like they had just occurred hours earlier.

The time he’d put a cigarette out on the top of her hand…how he used a stun gun on her to shock her, to the point she was shaking so much Clawdeen thought she was having a seizure…when he threatened to mutilate her between the legs after she’d talked back…

A shutter went through her. Clawdeen shook her head, forcing herself to take deep breaths, trying to remain calm. Once her chest no longer felt like it was about to explode, she opened her eyes and listened in on the conversation once again.

“Have you ever considered breeding her?” Blanchette asked, “I heard wereanimal babies are very popular these days.”

“Pffft, and lose that sweet ass when she becomes the size of a whale? No thanks,” Aran replied with a scoff, “Plus I draw the line at kids. If other people are into that shit, that’s their business, but not even I’m that sick.”

“What a shame,” Alastor said, “A real beauty like her could make you a lot with the pups she could put out.”

“You’re just saying that cuz _you_ want to be the one to knock her up,” Aran countered.

Alastor chuckled, “Maybe.”

It was laughable, hearing their twisted morality. Clawdeen remembered his threat the first night he’d beaten her, how he told her how easily he could call in his connections to have her siblings trafficked if she crossed him again. He had no problem beating her, raping her, pimping her out for his own greed, or marking her like she was his personal belonging, but Skoll forbid that he’d consider selling a baby to be in the same situation.

Clawdeen could never understand these people. Though, she learned long ago not to question it. Questioning things with the wrong people could get you into trouble.

She had a sudden bout of sadness as she mulled over these thoughts. In the past, she would never let herself talk this way. She wasn't raised to be someone who just went along with no questions asked- peace through conformity and loyalty wasn't peace, it was just another bar to the cage. She'd always been taught to stand up against things she thought were wrong and to never backed down when face with danger. 

Her eyes dropped to the rhinestones on her shoes.

Of course, she _used_ to not be like that. But she was no longer that girl.

That girl was long gone, having been beaten and broken until there was nothing left. Aran had made sure of that.

Clawdeen wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, trying to will the tears away. Slowly getting up as to not alert them of her presence, she walked back to the guest room and sat on the bed, lacing her hands together in her lap as she patiently waited for her master to come get her and take her home. 

* * *

  _The reflection staring at her was not one of someone she knew._

_Where bright, sparkling aureate-colored eyes should’ve been, instead were dull, sunken-in yellow orbs that watched her with a blank look, the dark circles and heavy bags under them only serving to emphasize the lifelessness within them._

_Her skin, once a rich brown with rosy cheeks and silky soft fur, was now pale and creased with premature lines of age. Her hair hung in her face, the limp and greasy strands nothing like the thick bouncy curls they usually were._

_Just who was this girl she was looking at? A changeling? A alternate self from some parallel world, perhaps? An evil twin? Anything explanation, no matter how ludicrous, would’ve been easier to accept than the reality that it was herself whose face she was looking back into._

_Clawdeen continued to stare into the mirror, her expression emotionless. She stood still, clad in only an oversized shirt. She could see a bruise peeping out from just under the color near her neck, an old one that was an ugly blackish brown shade, like that of an old banana. The bathroom light flickered above her, casting shadows across her face that seemed to make her look even older._

_Finally breaking her gaze away from the mirror, she looked down as she brought her hand above the sink, taking a look at what she had been grasping between her middle and index fingers and her thumb._

_The edge of a razor blade stared back at her, its sharp metal casting a slight glare in the bathroom light._

_She’d gotten ahold of it this morning, having managed to break it out of the plastic. She’d hidden it away under the soap bar in case Aran came into the bathroom, but now, with it being late at night and her the sole presence in the dingy apartment, there was nobody around to see her and what she was about to do._

_Clawdeen numbly looked down at it, her grip tightening._

_She couldn’t take it anymore._

_Every day, it just kept getting worse and worse. Nothing she did was ever enough; no matter how hard she tried, Aran was never pleased. Every little thing he could find to use as an excuse to do something to her, he did. Whenever he wasn’t fucking her, he was beating her._

_She tried- oh gods, she tried to be good. She tried to stop fighting, she tried to obey him, but it was like for every new way she learned how to keep him happy, there were a thousand different ways of pissing him off._

_The clients weren’t any better. Every touch was like sandpaper against her skin, every inch of them inside her like a million swords tearing her apart. Most of them didn’t even try to be nice anymore, preferring to just get right to the action and start hitting her as soon as they got into position. It was almost normal now for her arms to be covered in hand-shaped bruises, while a scattering of fingernail imprints dented her hips so often they left small scars._

_It was as if they had all conspired together to wear her down whenever they could, in whichever ways they could. And Clawdeen was worn down._

_It was too much. She felt like she was losing her mind little by little every day. Any longer and there’d be nothing left._

_She wanted out. Once and for all, by any means possible._

_Any means._

_Clawdeen raised her opposite hand, letting it hover above the sink as she turned so that the inside of her wrist was faced up._

_Her expression vacant, she reached over and pressed the edge of the razor blade to her wrist._

_Just as she began to drag her arm back, she hesitated._

_A sudden heaviness settled upon her chest. Clawdeen felt her throat become tight; she sucked in a breath as tears came to her eyes. Her breathing became ragged as she tried to force herself to apply pressure, to start cutting. But her body resisted, like her limbs had suddenly grown minds of their own._

_She couldn’t do it._

_Biting her lip, Clawdeen tried to urge her hand forward to make a cut into her skin, but her joints had gone stiff. Her hand trembled as she held the blade against her wrist. She could see her veins below the surface of her skin. Long, faint, bluish-green lines that ran down the lengths of her forearms, across her palms, and down the back of her hands._

_It would be so easy. All she had to do was dig in and cut, slice straight down the middle and open the precious lines up, let everything come spilling out. It might bring some pain, but it would be over soon enough._

_All she had to do was cut._

_But she couldn’t._

_Her whole body was trembling now._

_Clawdeen let out a shaky breath, a sob escaping her. Tears started to trail down her cheeks. She stared at her wrist, the sight of the sharp metal against the delicate area of her flesh causing a whimper to escape her._

_She looked back into the mirror, catching the desperation that filled her eyes._

_“I can’t do it,” she whispered weakly to herself, “I don’t want to die…”_

_But what choice did she have?_

_There was no other way out. It was clear nobody was going to ever find her- hell, they probably hadn’t even tried. Her family was probably happy she was gone, now that it meant one less mouth to feed, one less annoyance in the house of kids._

_There wasn’t a life to be had in this hellhole. To be raped day in and day out, beaten for even doing the smallest slip-up, to be starved and berated and used and at the end of the day, locked away like a dog in a testing lab. If this is all she had to look forward to, what was the point? There was no reason for her to go on if this was all life had to offer her._

_But…she was scared of dying. Terrified of it._

_There was no telling what might be awaiting her beyond the abyss of life, no guarantees as to what would happen to her on the other side. With monsters, nothing was predictable._

_She could slice her wrists and find herself in the afterlife. Or rise again as a ghost, or a zombie._

_Or she wouldn’t even die. Maybe she’d stumble and hit her head on the side of the tub or lose just enough blood to deprive oxygen from her brain and would fall into a coma. Maybe she’d wake up a vegetable, unable to do anything or tell anyone what had happened. An empty shell, to be used at anyone’s disposal. And this time, she wouldn’t even be able to scream._

_And what would Aran do with her body, when he found her? She doubted he’d be so kind as to ship her back to her family so they could give her a proper funeral._

_Her family._

_Clawdeen swallowed hard. She continued to stare in the mirror, her thoughts filling with the faces of her parents and siblings._

_She’d started to believe they hadn’t cared that she was missing. Aran had told her plenty of times that they didn’t care- who could ever love such a dirty whore like her? She was nothing. Even lower than the trash on the street. They were werewolves, so wouldn’t they be able to sniff her out and pinpoint her location for miles? Why didn’t they howl to see if she could hear, or use their ‘weird-wolf shifting thing’ as he put it, to maybe talk to the other animals (Clawdeen didn’t correct him on the fact that it didn’t work that way)? If they cared so much about their ‘golden ghoul’ wouldn’t Clawdeen have noticed something that would’ve been a clue they were trying?_

_Though she initially tried to ignore the hurtful words, or convince herself of otherwise, as time went by and a whole other month passed, Clawdeen found herself slowly starting to believe there was some truth to the words._

_At that moment, though, she couldn’t help but feel pain in her heart at the thought of them._

_If she died, then they’d probably never know. They’d never find out if she were alive or dead, or what happened to her, or where she had been. All they’d know was that she was still missing. They’d truly never see her again after that. And they wouldn’t even know that she was gone from this world._

_Or they’d find out about it if her body got discovered and made the local news, or the police would have to call them into the station to identify her in the morgue. Clawdeen thought about a documentary her and Howleen had watched once about missing teens. How many of the parents in it talked about the devastation they had felt as their kids vanished without a trace, the anguish that they carried with them day to day as their presence was replaced by a void that overtook them._

_Some of the parents had talked about the agony of living without having an answer as to what happened to their child, a few having lived a good twenty or even thirty years without a single clue as to what their fate was. Others addressed how they were too scared to know the truth, in the cases that their kids possibly became the victims of a serial killer or other forms of senseless violence._

_Clawdeen wondered if those same thoughts ran through her parents’ mind. If they were constantly looking over their shoulders at any brunette werewolf in the thought that it could be her, no matter how improbable the possibility was, or if they had to fight to keep the gruesome fantasies from ‘what-ifs’ out of their minds._

_If she died, then they’d be left with nothing, while her body rotted away in a ditch somewhere, or was buried in an obscure location to likely never be a found. Hidden away, never to be seen again._

_Her chest ached as her mom and dad’s faces came to her mind. Her mom- her strongest support system, who always cheered her on and encouraged her and helped her feel better whenever she was down; her father, wise and always there to give her a helping hand._

_If she died, it would break their hearts. They would never be given peace of mind that at least her pain was over. They’d be left with nothing._

_Clawdeen couldn’t do that to them._

_She didn’t want to die. Not now. She didn’t want to have her last moments in pain and agony and then for her body to be disposed of God knows where._

_She didn’t want to do it. But…she couldn’t take living like this._

_By now, she was loudly sobbing. Clawdeen bowed her head, overcome with emotion as tears dripped off her nose and chin and quietly splattered onto the porcelain of the sink. She pinched the razor blade tightly, the latter still hovering above the skin of her wrist._

_Letting out a scream of frustration, Clawdeen finally dropped her hands and threw the razor to the side, letting it bounce against the walls of the tub before it landed near the drain. She buried her face in her hands as she sunk to her knees, her cries loudly vibrating off the walls of the bathroom._

_There was no way out._

_Either she killed herself and let her life end, or she remain in this hellhole for the rest of her days until she became too sick and diminished to go on or they got tired of her and put her out of her misery._

_Either way, death seemed to be the only way she could truly be free._

* * *

 

_He was angry._

_She could tell from the moment he stepped in- silence permeated the apartment as he stepped in, not once looking in her direction or calling out to her as he tossed his coat onto the arm and sat down on the couch, fishing a cigarette from his pocket._

_He was pissed. Most likely at her. And she had no doubt he was going to let her know just how angry he was._

_Clawdeen watched him from the bathroom mirror. She had the door open just enough that she could see him from just around the corner in the reflection; she kept her eye on him as she washed her face of the day’s makeup, casting wary little glances and keeping quiet, like disturbing the silence would trigger his anger._

_Aran lit his cigarette and took a drag, before he took it away in his hand and exhaled. The air took on a slightly pungent smell as the smoke dissipated. He sat back for a moment, staring at his phone screen and he scrolled through something, before he finally addressed her._

_“Get your ass in here,” he said, zero emotion evident in his tone._

_Clawdeen turned off the water and silently treaded into the living room. She stood before him, hands clenching and unclenching as she nervously awaited what he had to say._

_Aran took another drag of his cigarette. “The hellhound you were with this morning says when we left, he went back to his bedroom and found his watch to be missing. He says he thinks you stole it.”_

_He finally looked up at her, his eyes questioning. Clawdeen stiffened; she could already tell where this was going to go._

_“I didn’t take it,” she said quietly._

_“I think you’re lying,” Aran refuted._

_Clawdeen shook her head, trying to maintain her composure despite the terror that had already implanted itself within her chest. “I-I didn’t take it, Daddy. I swear.”_

_“He says you did,” the satyr said, “And now he’s saying either you give it back to him, or he wants me to pay to buy him a new one.”_

_“I didn’t take it!” Clawdeen insisted, grasping the hem of her nightie, “I didn’t even know he had a watch. W-Why would I take it?”_

_Her skin broke out in goosebumps as her mind began churning up images of what he’d do to her if he didn’t believe her. She could already feel the flashes of imaginary pain starting to bloom on her body- the sting of his belt, the burn of his cigarette on her skin, the force of his fist against her face- which made her muscles tighten and contract._

_“That’s a good question, why would you take it? I would’ve thought after the last few lessons we had, you would’ve learned by now, but apparently I still need to drive it home,” Aran said coldly._

_Clawdeen swallowed, not breaking eye contact with him. She could feel her legs starting to wobble as they started to go weak from the anger in his glare._

_However, he made no move to strike her. He squinted at her for a few seconds, before he blew out another breath of smoke and stubbed the cigarette out on the surface of the table nearby._

_“Nah, I don’t think you took it,” he said, “You’d have no use for it. Not like you have a chance to sneak out and pawn it off.”_

_He shrugged, “Dumbass probably misplaced it and thought he could cheat me out of a couple grand before he bothered trying to find it.”_

_“Y-Y-Yeah, he doesn’t sound very bright,” Clawdeen agreed with a bit of smirk._

_Aran shot her a look. “Oh?” he asked, “And what?  You’re some fucking genius?”_

_Clawdeen lowered her ears instantly, realizing she had spoken out of line. She mumbled, “I-I was only saying…”_

_She trailed off, feeling small under the scrutiny of those baby blue eyes. Her eyes dropped to her feet as she rubbed the sleeve of her nightgown nervously, like she was a little pup all over again._

_“You were saying what? Look at me when I’m talking you,” Aran ordered._

_She did as much, though it was hard to keep eye contact when his eyes felt like they were practically looking into her soul._

_“I-I-It’s just…w-well, he can’t exactly…force you to pay him back, can he?” she explained, the words spilling out really fast as she tried to think of anything that could save her ass, “B-Because he has no proof. And, w-well he can’t really go to the police, because that would mean having to explain how he knows me._

_“A-And by doing that, he’d only put himself in danger because that would expose him of indulging in this type of stuff,” she continued, “S-So there’s not really anything he can do about it. B-Because you know a lot more people, s-so you can do a lot more to him than he can to you. Or, um, I-I think you can…”_

_She pursed her lips, unable to think of anything else. Frustration and embarrassment weighed on her shoulders; she felt like she had just made a complete fool of herself. Clawdeen looked back down at her feet, trying not to cry as she braced herself for her punishment._

_However, to her surprise, she heard Aran let out a large snort. She raised her head to see the satyr’s brows raised in an amused expression._

_“Well, shit, when you put it like that, it sounds pretty fucking obvious,” he said, “Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Of course he can’t do shit, he’s got too much to lose.”_

_Clawdeen was silent. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say anything to that._

_Aran shook his head, “Damn, I feel stupid now. Should’ve told that guy to stick it up his ass when he started complaining. Would’ve saved me the drive up here.”_

_He looked up at her through his bangs. “Touché, Selena.”_

_“I…” Clawdeen wasn’t sure how to respond. Was she supposed to apologize? Give a witty remark of her own? The satyr was so unpredictable it was hard to read him and figure out what his body language implied or what tone suggested what._

_Taking one last drag off his cigarette, now burnt down nearly to the filter, Aran snuffed it out in a ceramic bowl that rested on the coffee table, before he stood up and collected his coat, pulling it on as he acknowledged the werewolf._

_“Before I go,” he said, “Are you telling me the truth when you say you didn’t take the watch?”_

_He looked deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of a fib. It was intimidating, but Clawdeen felt a little more sure of herself since she knew there was no fib to be found._

_“I didn’t, Daddy,” she said, “I promise.”_

_He ogled her for a little longer, before he nodded and stood up._

_“Okay,” he said, “I’m going to take your word for it. Well, get some rest. I’ll be by around three tomorrow, so you got most of the day to yourself.”_

_Clawdeen nodded obediently. She followed him to the door, allowing him to give her a kiss goodbye._

_Once he had shut it and locked it, she turned around and leaned against it, blowing out a sigh of relief. The tension in her shoulders immediately loosened._

_That was a close one. Clawdeen was a bit surprised- she’d been telling the truth, but the previous times something like this had happened, Aran hadn’t even bothered asking and just went straight to beating her for whatever mishap had been pinned on her. And then beating her harder for daring to be dishonest with him even if she hadn’t. It was like the default was for her to be the liar no matter what the situation._

_This time, he didn’t though._

_This time, he actually **believed** her. Without so much as even a slap or a grip of the arm to force her to confess. _

_Although it was silly, Clawdeen couldn’t keep the small smile off her face as she felt a small feeling of pride come over her. She’d done it- for once she could sleep tonight without waking up to a busted lip in the morning._

_It was a small victory, but it was enough to give her a slight pep in her step as she made her way back to the bathroom to get ready for bed._

* * *

 

_Clawdeen tapped her foot nervously, eyes darting left and right down to either side of the street. An anxious pit had opened up in her stomach, making her feel slightly ill; she hoped it was just nerves and not an actual bug. The last thing she needed right now was to throw up all over her shoes._

_She turned her head slightly to look at the girls. None of them looked particularly excited to be doing this- not that she expected them to necessarily be feeling joyous about this such event. She kept an eye on their posture, silently taking notes on how they carried themselves. Anything that seemed to even slightly effect their chances of getting picked, she needed to remember if she was going to have any luck._

_Tonight was officially it: her first night prostituting on her own, without Aran’s supervision._

_He trusted her to be good. And to make her quota. He made sure to drive that message home as she got ready for the night._

_“There will be guys patrolling the area, as you might’ve guessed from the one who brought you back,” he had said while she dressed, “So if you try anything again, they’ll see it.”_

_“I won’t do anything,” Clawdeen said._

_“I know you won’t,” he said. He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to look at him._

_“Because if you even think of doing it again, I’ll make sure it hurts so much worse,” he had said lowly, “You won’t be able to walk for days when I’m done with you, I’ll guarantee that.”_

_She didn’t believe he was bluffing. Not that it mattered- Clawdeen hadn’t even entertained the thought of trying to leave again._

_Seemingly taking her word, Aran let her out of the house and marched her towards a street corner where the other girls were standing, saying how he had some paperwork he had to catch up on and he’d be coming back within a few hours to check up on her progress._

_So that was that, and now here Clawdeen stood, freezing in the cold of the night air and feeling like a sitting duck, like at any minute something was going to come popping out of the shadows to come snatch her up into the darkness._

_She started to bounce her leg, boredom and anxiousness doing nothing for her nerves as she watched for a sign of a car. It was already half past eleven, and she still had yet to land a customer. Most of the girls had already been picked up within the last hour or so by various johns; Clarissa and Kimber were currently off with a few, while Vixen, Ruby, and Shelby had all gotten picked more than once to meet up with a driver. Starla had just gotten back from some guy in a Hyundai; she stood next to Clawdeen, silently smoking as she counted out her pay._

_There was the smell of burning oil, before Clawdeen caught sight of a car pulling out from around the corner, before it skidded to a stop in front of her. Clawdeen took a small step back, her brows raised in surprise._

_The window rolled down._

_“Hey, sugar, you lookin’ for a date?” the driver, a werebear, called out smugly to her._

_Clawdeen just stared at him. She looked at the girls, unsure for a second if he was talking to her._

_Vixen and Starla both shooed her towards him. ‘Talk to him,’ Starla mouthed._

_Turning back towards him, Clawdeen managed a smile, struggling to come up with a reply back._

_“Uh, d-depends,” she said, “You want sugar or a little, um, spice?”_

_“Oh god,” she heard Shelby mutter from behind her, while Starla withheld a snort. It seemed to do the trick, however, and the werebear grinned as he leaned forward and opened the passenger door._

_“How ‘bout a bit of both?” he suggested, patting the seat next to him._

_Clawdeen had to try not to cringe at him, though her smile was rather watery as she picked up her legs and brought herself forward to his car. As she closed the door, she looked up out the window to see the others watching her._

_Starla gave her a thumbs up in encouragement. Clawdeen tried to smile back, but it came out more of a grimace. Dread started to descend upon her at the thought of what was going to happen once she was alone with the werebear._

_She sat back in the seat as he started to drive away, watching as the others’ figures grew small in the rearview mirror. A bout of apprehension came upon her; she learned very hard what could happen when you started going to places unknown with a stranger (Striggy’s face flashed briefly in her mind, a sudden taste of bile coming onto her tongue)._

_“You seem a little tense there,” the werebear stated, “No need, I’m just a jolly ol’ bear here looking for some company.”_

_“Sorry,” Clawdeen said hurriedly, “It’s…it’s kind of my first night doing this.”_

_“Really?” he responded, a sparkle in his eyes, “Well, then, hopefully you and me can learn a few things to help you with your next couple of customers._

_“I’m positively over the moon,” Clawdeen muttered, just wanting to get the deed done and over with._

_He ended up taking the two of them to an abandoned lot near the edge of the woods, where he had her in the back of his car. Clawdeen lay still beneath him, silently thinking back over the prices Aran had told her to offer- seventy for a blowjob, thirty for a handjob, four hundred for a full screw or a full hour, plus extra if longer- and trying to do the math for how much she’d have left to meet her quota after she got the money from the guy._

_After he dropped her off, a second guy took her a park, where he put the front seat down and forced her to straddle him. Another one took her out of the car and bent her over the hood while he had her from behind; Clawdeen’s teeth chattered from the cold, while she worried that even in the late hours, there’d be someone who’d walk by and see them._

_A few took her all the way across the city to various motels, where the rooms smelled like cigarette smoke and mold while the old bedsprings squeaked beneath them from their movements._

_One such customer took her by surprise, yanking her from the couch from where she’d been taking off her boots to throw her on the bed. Clawdeen bounced lightly, looking up in shock, only to feel the harsh sting of his palm as he slapped her across the face._

_“Fucking slut,” the man hissed, peeling off his shirt before he lunged for her._

_Clawdeen tried backing up against the bed, but he grabbed her calves and yanked her down so that she lay flat against the mattress. He threw himself atop her, gripping her biceps hard enough to for sure leave marks._

_“Cunty bitch,” he spat at her, thrusting into her roughly as he grabbed her chin and shoved her face from side to side, before backhanding her again. “Dirty little whore.”_

_Screwing her eyes shut, Clawdeen whimpered against the pain, but made no attempt to fight back and allowed him to abuse her further._

_After he was finished, the man got dressed. He raised his head; Clawdeen warily watched him from the bed, the sheet pulled up around her nude body. The man sneered in disgust as he tossed a few bills at her._

_“Worthless,” the man muttered, “Get out.”_

_On and on, the night went. Faces blurred together and she became numb to their various activities, her mind occupied with only keeping them happy in hopes of getting more out of them and by the thought that every dollar brought her one step closer to finally resting._

_By the time she’d finally made her quota, it was almost four in the morning. Clawdeen stumbled out of the car, slightly dazed from exhaustion as she shut the door behind her and walked back to the corner. Starla and Ruby were currently the only ones occupying it, both of them watching her as she made her way back onto the sidewalk._

_“Everything all right?” Starla asked, noting the werewolf’s slightly disheveled appearance._

_“Do you really want that answered?” Clawdeen shot back, pulling out the rest of the cash from her purse and starting to leaf through it, counting under her breath as she added her payment to the collection._

_“Hey, Starla spoke up again. “Um, you got a little…”_

_She looked up. Starla was staring at her face as she gestured to her own, pointing at the corner of her lip. Clawdeen furrowed her brows in confusion, reaching up to wipe her mouth. She felt something slimy, before she pulled her hand back to see her fingers were covered in some kind of white substance._

_Her face burned as she realized what it was- the last man she was with had insisting on finishing on her face, saying something about how he thought she could “use a little makeup”. Humiliated, Clawdeen let out a noise of disgust as she flicked the mess off her hand._

_“Aw, don’t worry about it, it happens to the best of us,” Starla said, “You make your quota?”_

_“Yeah, thank god,” Clawdeen muttered, putting the money back in her purse, “Finally, I can fucking leave. I’m beat.”_

_Ruby gave her a nod of sympathy. “It gets easier after a while,” she said, “You do it enough times and soon the time passes by like it never even started.”_

_“Yay,” Clawdeen said sarcastically._

_She bid them a good night and started to head back._

_As she walked, she took in the silence that surrounded her. For an inner-city area, it was deathly quiet, an eerie stillness overtaking the whole atmosphere. Like even the houses and buildings knew to keep their secrets._

_Her feet ached as she made her way back to the complex. Clawdeen hadn’t realized just how tired she was until she found herself struggling to climb the stairs; her legs felt like lead and wobbled with every step, while her arms shook so severely, she had to hold onto the hand rail. The time it took her to get to her room had have only been a few minutes, but it felt like it took an eternity._

_Once inside the door, her arms dropped to her sides like they’d been made of concrete. Her purse slid off her shoulder and fell to the floor, but Clawdeen lacked the strength to even bend down and pick it up. She fell face first onto the couch, letting out a groan of relief to finally be off her feet._

_She lay there for a few minutes, resting her eyes and taking in the sounds of the other tenants around her, the noise providing a strange sort of comfort, before she pushed herself up and made her way to the bathroom, intent on taking a well-deserved bath._

_With her energy already zapped, however, it took way more effort than it should’ve for her to get her clothes off and get the water running. By the time she had gotten the bathtub filled up and sat down in it, Clawdeen felt like she had just run a marathon. Her eyes felt heavy, her lids fluttering as she struggled to keep them open. She grabbed some soap and began washing her arms, but her movements were sluggish, her hands lathering the same area over again as she lost focus._

_A haze had come upon her, clouding her thoughts and making it hard to think straight. Her eyes fell shut; she made no move to open them again. Her head fell forward as she let her hands drop._

_Just a second, she thought. She’d just rest for a few seconds, then she’d clean herself and get into bed. She just needed some rest…_

_“…Lena…Selena…SELENA!”_

_Her eyes shot open. Clawdeen lifted her head, feeling her cheek peel away from the porcelain of the bathtub from where saliva had pooled around her and made it stick._

_The door suddenly slammed open. She sat up in alarm, water splashing out over the sides of the tub and onto the floor as she scrambled to find purchase. Aran stood in the doorway, his face slightly pinched in annoyance as his eyes landed upon her._

_“How many times you gonna make me call you, girl?” he asked, “You lose your hearing or something?”_

_Clawdeen blinked. She looked around at the bathtub, noticing that the pads of her fingers were now wrinkled. Her hair stuck to her, wet from where it had dipped into the water. Had she fallen asleep…?_

_“Hello, earth to Selena,” Aran snapped, “You still in there?”_

_“I’m sorry,” Clawdeen quickly said, “I-I just took a bath, and I think I…dozed off. I didn’t mean to ignore you, Daddy.”_

_Her ears lowered as she shrunk down into the bath, like she could dissolve into the water and escape his furious glare._

_Aran narrowed his eyes for a moment, before his eyes suddenly softened, the anger completely melting away as he gave her a small smile._

_“Well, now, that’s not good,” he said as he trudged over to her, “Can’t have my baby girl passing out in the bath. That’s a recipe for disaster.”_

_He sat on the side of the tub with his left leg drawn up. Clawdeen scooted forward slightly to give him room. To her surprise, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo on the ledge, before she felt him gently gather up her wet curls in his hands and proceeded to wash her hair._

_“We need to get you something to help keep you awake,” Aran said as he scrubbed her scalp, “Something that will keep you on your toes without overworking your system.”_

_His fingers felt like a gentle massage against her head, pressing firm enough to relax the tension without applying too much pressure to make it hurt. Clawdeen sat silently as he made sure the shampoo penetrated deeply into the mahogany tresses._

_Her eyelids started to flutter. His touch was soothing to her sore body (ironic, considering he was usually the one to put it in such a condition); she could steadily feel herself begin to doze again._

_Aran pulled his hand away from her hair and started to lightly trail his fingers down the back of her neck. He gently rubbed the skin there, before he took a firmer hold and began to massage her neck muscles. Clawdeen sighed at the touch, her head lowering as she began to drift off again._

_Somehow, it was oddly comforting, him being here, taking care of her and giving her such tender touches. It let her know he wasn’t annoyed. For the moment, at least._

_“Hey, now, don’t start snoozing again,” Aran grasped her shoulder and lightly shook her, “You still need to get clean.”_

_Clawdeen yawned, “Sorry.”_

_He helped her wash out her hair, before she conditioned it and finished washing her body. Dunking herself briefly to wash out the oils, Clawdeen let bathwater drain as Aran helped her stand up, the latter grabbing her towel from the floor to wrap her in it as he helped her out of the bathtub._

_It suddenly occurred to her the reason that he was probably here. She stepped back to look at him. “Oh, Daddy, my money from tonight, it’s-“_

_“I know. I already counted it out,” he smirked, “You did good tonight. Even went a couple dollars over. Can’t remember the last time one of my ghouls managed to make her quota the first night hooking.”_

_It was a statement similar to the one he’d made the very second night she’d been in his control, the night after the showcase, when Clawdeen had first started planning her escape._

_However, this time, instead of revulsion, Clawdeen felt a warm sensation start to balloon up in her. It was a familiar feeling, one she’d often get when she finally finished making a dress that turned out exactly the way she had envisioned it in her head, or when she showed her parents her report card and they complimented her on the way she managed she had improved herself for the semester._

_She was actually…proud._

_Moreso, proud of the fact that Aran was proud._

_She smiled, beaming with the joy that filled her. She was both relieved and happy- she had proved to him she wasn’t up to any funny business and showed that she could hold herself without his help. She had done it all herself._

_Aran smiled gently at her, holding her lightly by the arms as he stared deeply into her eyes. He put his hand to her cheek._

_“You really are something, you know that?” he asked._

_Clawdeen tilted her head up. “I’m happy to make you happy, Daddy.”_

_That made him smile wider. He leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead, before pulling back to give her a pat on the shoulder._

_“Well, I have to get going,” he said, “I’ll be at the office most of tomorrow trying to catch up on paperwork, but I’ll try and come around, see how you’re keeping up.”_

_He left Clawdeen standing there in the bathroom, her towel wrapped around her while stray water droplets dripped off the ends of her hair and down her legs. Clawdeen continued to smile, swaying back and forth as she continued to mull over his words, the knowledge that he was proud of her making her glow with happiness._

_She was so happy, tonight. She was proud of herself, and she was…_

_Clawdeen suddenly stopped._

_She was…actually happy over this?_

_A drop of water ran down the back of her neck. She reached up and lightly touched the area, remembering the feel of Aran’s hands gently stroking her skin._

_His gesture had been intimate, like he was a lover returning from a long trip. And Clawdeen not only didn’t push him away, but she had actually encouraged it. Welcomed it, even!_

_Immediately, her good mood shriveled up and a sense of disgust came over her. Her claws lightly tug into the skin of her neck, the pleasant phantom feeling of his fingers now burning, like someone had just pressed a hot iron against her nape._

_God, what was wrong with her?_

_Had he not just barged in only about ten minutes like he was on the warpath, angry because she hadn’t responded to him right away? Right before he started getting sweet on her, was she not fearing for her life that he was going to assault her because she had fallen asleep in the fucking bathtub?_

_And now here she was, acting all giddy because, what? He wasn’t mad at her for once? That she had somehow managed to make over a thousand dollars on her first night of him forcing her to work under the streetlights, that she now officially was some two-bit hooker? That she managed to keep him pacified long enough that for ONCE she could go a night without him giving her a slap to the face or calling her a dirty whore or doing something to her?_

_Shame burned deeply within her. Her hands clenched the material of the towel tightly; Clawdeen rewrapped it around herself, pulling tightly, as if the secure hold could protect her from her mind’s own ridicule._

_She crossed her arms and looked into the mirror. Her reflection stared back, eyes watery with sudden hurt._

_She had liked how he touched her. She had enjoyed it, leaned into it, craved it. Those same hands that bloodied her nose and bruised her skin- she had taken solace in the way they had cleaned her and held her. A part of her hadn’t wanted it to stop._

_The way they had talked about the night’s events- it was like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like Clawdeen was just some worker getting off a graveyard shift and Aran was her boyfriend waiting up for her so he could help her relax. As if they were just another pair of monsters working long shifts in regular jobs._

_It had all started to feel…normal._

_It frightened her._

_‘You can’t give up like this,’ she told herself, ‘You become resigned to this shit now, and there’s no way out. You have to keep your head up. Keep fighting. No way are you going to let yourself go along with this shit forever.’_

_And yet, even as she repeated the mantra to herself, Clawdeen found she couldn’t quite believe the words anymore._

* * *

 

_Her head hurt._

_And she was cold. She could feel goosebumps break out on her skin as the cold air started to settle over her, wrapping her up like a frosty blanket of wind and chilling her to the bone. Clawdeen groaned and tried to roll onto her side for warmth, only to feel someone lightly push on her arm and roll her back over._

_She could feel someone tugging at her clothes and pulling them off her. With way more effort than it should’ve been, Clawdeen opened her eyes. The ceiling of a darkened room greeted her back._

_Aran stood over her, watching her silently as he unbuttoned her skirt and tugged it down. He leaned over until he was almost on top of her, his hands sliding around to her back. Clawdeen could feel him unclasp her bra, before he pulled it down her arms and off her body, discarding it somewhere on the floor._

_Bryce stood next to him, pulling back from where he’d been bent over and tossing a high heel over his shoulder._

_Slowly, Clawdeen turned her head. Starla lay next to her, the latter completely unconscious. Save for the movements made every time Bryce went to remove her clothing, she was still._

_Clawdeen turned back to Aran; her arms and legs felt like lead as she struggled to remember how they had gotten into this room, which she didn’t recognize. She let out another groan, her head aching like she’d gotten hit with a rock._

_There was a slight taste of coco in her mouth; that was when she remembered: Aran had showed up that afternoon, telling her they were going to meet up with someone somewhere, and then had given her some hot chocolate. “You deserve a little reward,” was what he had told her, “Figured I’d treat you before we headed out for the day.”_

_It had obviously been laced with something. That much she could figure out through the thick fog that still hindered her motor skills. She looked forward again, watching as Aran reached for her hips and tugged her underwear down her legs._

_“D-Daddy…” she managed to whimper out._

_“It’s okay,” Aran said, his eyes two glowing blue rocks in the darkness, “We’re just going to make a little movie. You girls just sit back and let us do the work.”_

_Bryce, who had gone away for a few seconds, walked up next to him to look at her. He held something in his hands that Clawdeen recognized as a tripod camera._

_“Should we give her another dose?” he asked._

_Aran shook his head. “She should be out again in the next few minutes or so.”_

_Clawdeen opened her mouth, her lips puckering as she attempted to form words that wouldn’t come out._

_A small ball of light suddenly emerged in the room as Bryce turned the camera on. Aran took the camera from him and set it on something in front of the bed- a small table or extended stand. He adjusted the screen, angling the lens downward so that it faced Clawdeen and Starla._

_“Showtime,” he said._

_Bryce nodded, his gaze downward as he reached up and began to unbutton his shirt._

_Clawdeen let out a small noise. She tried to move, but her limbs felt like putty- the most she could do was twitch her hands._

_Just as Bryce started crawling onto the bed towards her and Starla, she suddenly felt lightheaded, before she was gone into the darkness again._

* * *

 

_When she finally awoke later, Clawdeen felt her ears twitch at the sound of someone typing nearby._

_She opened her eyes, confused to see the familiar stained wall of the apartment staring back at her. Its old, repugnant smell that carried the faint hint of mildew greeted her nostrils. She blinked, realizing that she was laying on her side on the mattress. Someone had pulled the comforter up to her shoulder._

_Sitting up, Clawdeen felt a slight chill hit her arms and looked down at herself. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes she had picked that morning; her shorts had been removed, and the crop top sweater she had forced herself into was replaced by a cream-colored camisole._

_Her hands clenched in the comforter as she thought about the one way she could’ve changed clothes while she was unconscious. She probably should’ve been used to it by now- half of DC’s male population had probably already seen her, with and without her knowledge- but the thought of someone touching her when she wasn’t even aware still gave her the strong urge to vomit._

_The typing sound continued somewhere near her right. Clawdeen turned her head._

_Aran sat on the couch, slightly hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrote something out on a laptop that sat on the coffee table. His eyes were glued to the screen as his fingers flew rapidly over the keyboard, the light clacking of its keys the only other sound in the bare room. A tumbler with a handle sat next to the laptop, while a messenger bag rested at his feet._

_Clawdeen watched him quietly, trying to piece together how and when they’d gotten back here. She suddenly remembered the brief scene she’d woken up to in the dark room and her brow wrinkled with greater confusion. Had it all been a dream?_

_Seeming to sense her gaze on him, Aran glanced up from the laptop._

_“Hey, you’re up,” he commented, “You’d sleep good?”_

_She didn’t answer him right away, still occupied with the thought of earlier. Her eyes rolled to the window, where she noticed it was now dark outside. Clawdeen turned back to Aran._

_“Earlier…” she said, “Bryce and Starla…”_

_“Oh, that? Don’t worry about it,” he said, “It was just something me and him have been talking about doing for a while.”_

_“But…but what did you do?” she asked, “I mean, I don’t remember much, but you said something about making a movie, right?”_

_“Yeah, and that’s all we did,” Aran replied, “It was just something small, it probably won’t happen again.”_

_He looked up over the top of the computer, giving her a hard glare._

_“And that’s all you need to know,” he said lowly._

_It was a silent warning for her to let it go. Or else. Clawdeen immediately closed her mouth, her ears lowering at the mere inference of punishment. Pacified by the act of submission, Aran’s expression immediately relaxed. He went back to his laptop, silently typing away._

_They sat in silence for a few minutes, with him working while Clawdeen watched him blankly. There was something about the sight of him there, with his things and sitting down, that seemed off to her._

_It suddenly occurred to her that Aran had never stayed this long in the apartment. Usually, he just came and went, only staying for a brief few minutes to talk to her about a client or get handsy with her. Other than that, he was never really much a presence in the small room._

_Upon taking another glance at his bag and computer, curiosity got the best of Clawdeen. Slowly getting up from the mattress, she walked over to the couch and took a seat beside him. Aran gave her a brief glance from his peripheral, before his attention went right back to the screen._

_She glanced over his shoulder at what he was working on. It was some kind of memo; Clawdeen tried to read it, only to quickly become lost in the jargon the littered the page. A few words stuck out to her, but there were so many she’d never seen before that she quickly gave up the task, feeling like she was reading another language._

_“What’re you doing?” she found herself finally asking._

_Aran sat up straighter and pressed the save icon on the document, before switching windows to bring up a picture of a line graph, whose values made no sense to her._

_“Just something for my work,” he said, “I have a meeting coming up, and I figured I’d save more time working on it here than driving all the way back and having to put it off until later.”_

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened as she caught the flash of the words ‘workers’ fatalities’ on the graph, but opted to not ask any questions. She skimmed through the document once again, the words looking like made up terms from a fantasy novel as she failed to comprehend their meaning or usage._

_“This looks like…a lot,” she commented._

_Aran snorted, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. Sometimes I still don’t know what the hell people are saying in these, and I have to read this shit every day. You’d think after ten years I’d have a better hang of it all.”_

_He shrugged, “Oh, well. That’s what I get for going into construction.”_

_“You’re a construction worker?” Clawdeen asked, slightly puzzled._

_That surprised her. Aran didn’t seem like the type of person willing to perform such hard labor on a day-to-day basis. The few times she’d seen him dressed for work, it was always suits and ties. Plus, he didn’t have any of the familiar hints on him like some of her father’s friends- the parents of the other kids in the pack-did; no lingering smell of sawdust or paint._

_“Somewhat. I’m the one who helps design the buildings and handles all the negotiation and legal stuff and make sure it’s all going according to plan, but I don’t actually help put stuff together,” he said._

_So a contractor, Clawdeen thought. “And you’ve been working job this for…ten years?”_

_It seemed a little off, him having such a long career when he didn’t seem that old._

_She didn’t really know why she was asking the question- considering they were monsters and aging was always wonky with them, he could’ve been any age- but for some reason, she wanted to know more about him and his life._

_Why she thought that would do her any good, she didn’t know, but a really big part of her was really wanting to learn about him. Like she yearned being closer to him._

_Aran looked up once more at his computer. He was silent for a second as he stared, making her worried she had offended him._

_However, a smirk crossed his angular features. He turned back towards the computer but continued to address her as he worked._

_“How old do you think I am, Selena?” he questioned._

_Clawdeen blinked. She tensed slightly, afraid of answering. What if the age she gave him ended up offending him._

_“I-I don’t know,” she answered shyly, “Twenty-nine?”_

_Aran gave her an amused look._

_“You’re sweet,” he said. He closed the laptop and scooted it further on the table, before he reached for his tumbler and took a sip._

_“I’m a hundred and thirty-seven,” he revealed, sitting back, “I’ve been working in architecture for decades. I started out as a historian helping to preserve old landmarks and buildings, then I worked for a few decades as a graphic designer for private commissions, sketching out homes people wanted to be built. Then I went to back to school, got my master’s, and decided to go into contracting._

_“The technical side can make it boring as hell, but the pay’s good and I get to be more flexible with my hours when I’m not busy,” he added._

_He gave her a smile. “Yeah, so I guess you could say I’ve been doing this for a while.”_

_Clawdeen nodded, not sure how to respond to that, if at all. Aran adjusted his position and turned towards her, sitting back so that he rested against the arm of the couch and propping his ankle up on his knee. He sipped his coffee and nodded towards her._

_“You can ask me more questions, if you want,” he said._

_She glanced up at him, her eyes searching as if it were a trick. Aran nodded in approval._

_“Come on, let’s get to know each other a little better,” he said, “You ask me a question and I’ll ask you a question, how about that?”_

_“Oh…um, okay,” Clawdeen answered, “Uh, what…what made you want to go in architecture?”_

_Aran answered, “Well, I’ve always had a thing for creating stuff. You know how the story goes, I played with building blocks a lot as a kid and always liked reading about how designs for things were possible. I was actually part of the woodshop club when I was in high school. We had won quite a few prizes with our designs.”_

_He raised his head, “What about you? Any fancy extracurricular activities you were into?”_

_A flash of the memory of the night he first beat her caused her to hesitate; he’d threatened her family once before, who was to say anything she told him in this moment wouldn’t be further used against her in the future? Any little detail could easily be used to further figure out things about her life and make it easy ammo against her if she were to ever cross him again._

_Yet despite these thoughts, Clawdeen found herself answering anyway._

_“Well, I was in fashion club,” she said, “And I was on the softball team. The one I used to do the longest, though, was fearleading.”_

_“A fearleader? You don’t say,” Aran grinned, “That explains where that flexibility comes from. And let me guess, you had the jock boyfriend to go along with your cheer routine at every game?”_

_Clawdeen gave a small smile and shook her head._

_“No, I-I actually never had a boyfriend,” she said, “I mean, I went out on a couple of dates with a few guys, but it never turned into anything serious.”_

_“No?” Aran repeated. He squinted, his lips pursed in an thoughtful expression, before he finally spoke again, “You probably just fucked them, didn’t you?”_

_The werewolf felt her face immediately go hot at the insinuation. Her hackles rose in defense. Immediately, she was beginning to regret this conversation._

_“I-I didn’t,” she said._

_“I think you did,” Aran insisted, “I think you fucked all of them. Bet you fucked every guy on the casketball team. I can just see you now: Stringing them along, giving it up just because you could, throwing it back in the other girls’ faces about how you managed to land the guys these were crushing on.”_

_He scoffed, “I know how girls like you work.”_

_Clawdeen opened her mouth to argue back, but closed it as she mulled over the words._

_It…it wasn’t like that. It was never like that. Sure, she had flirted quite often with a few of the guys, but it had all been in good, innocent fun. It was never meant to lead any of them on, and if she had, they had always led to a date or two. It just never worked out with any of the guys, that was all. She certainly would never brag about it to the other girls, especially the ones who had had crushes on the guys she’d dated. The only times she ever talked about was with Laura and their friends’ group, and all of them had had boyfriends. She wasn’t some kind of heartbreaker who played around with people’s feelings like that, and she certainly had never slept with anyone!_

_At least…until all of this happened. Her face burned with humiliation as she thought about this._

_Now, she was way more knowledgeable in the field of sex than she’d ever expected herself to be. Her body count had grown exponentially in only the span of a few months, the numbers the equivalent to what took even the most promiscuous monsters centuries to build._

_She tried to tell herself it wasn’t her fault, tried to remind herself she’d been forced into this role, but even with all of it, the satyr’s words stung her deeply._

_“Whatever, it happens to the best of us,” Aran dismissed, “So what did you study in school? Have any favorite subjects?”_

_“I was really into econ,” Clawdeen muttered._

_Aran frown. He took in her solemn expression and the notable lack of enthusiasm, of which made him roll his eyes in annoyance._

_“Yeah, you seem really passionate about it,” he grumbled. He then let out a sigh, turning away from her, “Well, guess I’ll be going then.”_

_Clawdeen raised her head in alarm. Her eyes widened as she watched him gather up his laptop and slide into his messenger bag, before he stood up and started for the door._

_“W-W-Where are you going?” she questioned._

_“You obviously aren’t in the mood anymore for Twenty Questions, and I have to get going anyway so I can be at the office early tomorrow,” he said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”_

_An unfamiliar sense of panic welled up in Clawdeen as she watched him head for the door. She shot to her feet, having to restrain herself from launching herself at the satyr and holding him back from going._

_Instead, she clasped her hands to her chest, a sudden lump in her throat as she watched him reach for the knob._

_“Daddy,” she pleaded in a tear-filled voice, “P-Please don’t go.”_

_She watched as Aran paused, his back to her as his head perked up. He looked over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow raised in surprise._

_“You don’t want me to leave?” he asked, “You didn’t seem like you were up for talking any longer just a few seconds ago.”_

_“Please don’t leave,” Clawdeen repeated, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to go yet.”_

_And it was true. Having Aran here with her and being able to talk to him about other things that weren’t clients or her quota or any of the other stuff was nice. It was nice to have someone to talk to when she wasn’t working- she didn’t have much time to talk with the other girls outside of the few minutes of free time when they were waiting for someone to drive up- and to not be alone in the dank, cold apartment for once._

_She didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want him to leave and leave her thoughts in this empty, lonely room._

_Being embarrassed over his questions was one thing, but it was way better than having to spend the night in the agonizing silence by herself._

_Aran stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing as he gauged her body language. Clawdeen stared back, her eyes wide with silent begging._

_He lowered his head, a small scoff of amusement escaping him as, to her relief, he took his hand off the doorknob and deposited his bag back on the floor at the edge of the couch._

_He held his arms out to her. “Come here,” he said softly._

_Clawdeen walked into his embrace, allowing him to press her against his chest as she slid her arms tightly over his shoulder-blades. Aran rubbed her back affectionately, nuzzling her hair._

_“You’re pitiful, you know that?” he said, “You act like you haven’t seen me for a thousand years.”_

_“I know,” Clawdeen said, “I just…I just want to spend more time with you.”_

_She hated the fact that she knew she was being truthful._

_“Oh, I know,” Aran said with a sneer, “I know just what you want.”_

_Clawdeen stiffened as she felt his hand cup her backside and squeeze. Her claws tightened in his jacket as dread immediately began to pool in her stomach._

_Aran grabbed her chin and tilted her head up so she’d look at him. The lust in his eyes was almost overwhelming as he dipped down to kiss her. Clawdeen screwed her eyes shut, grimacing as he immediately forced his tongue into her mouth, but tried to play along and reciprocate._

_She let out a small squeal as he grabbed her by the upper arms and whirled them around to throw her on the couch. He took his place atop her and dived down to start kissing her neck, while his hands began running up and down the front of her shirt._

_Before she could stop herself, Clawdeen moaned at the ministrations. Her hands unconsciously flexed against his arms, making Aran smirk. He pulled back and reached to start unbuttoning her shirt._

_“Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, “You can’t get enough of my hands on you.”_

_He lowered his head until they were almost nose to nose._

_“Say it,” he said._

_Clawdeen felt her mouth go dry. She felt her eyes fill with tears. She knew what he was referring to; it frustrated her, the way he knew just how to get to her and force her to her lowest point._

_Still, she didn’t want to disobey him. With the taste of bile in her mouth, she uttered the phrase he’d been wanting her to say more and more as of late._

_“I-I love you,” she sobbed, “Master.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK how to feel about this chapter. I intended originally for it to illustrate Clawdeen over time succumbing to Aran's control and her growing (albeit reluctant) attachment to him, but I feel like for the most part it just came out as a filler. Oh, well.


	9. Chapter 8: The Puppet Master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: beginning scene has mentions of forced body mods. Also brief violence, threats of violence and assault, scenes of sexual coercion/manipulation

_“Daddy, what…are we doing here?” Clawdeen asked, looking up at the store’s logo wearily._

_The dingy little shop was nestled between two restaurants in the alleyway practically screamed ‘shady’- the neon lights of its open sign were dull and flickering from a badly needed change of voltage, the small overhang that shadowed the few feet of sidewalk was in tatters, and trash littered the ground in front of it. It looked every bit as sketchy as one could imagine._

_It didn’t seem like they were here for an appointment; when Aran had called her earlier for her to return to the apartment after working the street, all he’d told her was that there was something he had in mind that he wanted to do, but that he needed her there for it. He also told her to dress in loose, baggy clothes, so here she sat in a plain t-shirt and some shorts- definitely something different from the skintight, curve-hugging outfits she’d since grown used to._

_He had refused to elaborate any further of what had brought them here, though Clawdeen was certain it was something other than another client. After all, if it were just that, then he would’ve just said they were meeting a guy instead of this whole ominous attitude he’d had. That, and she doubted he’d be okay with her looking so sloppy with her attire to meet someone._

_She wasn’t sure to feel relaxed that it wasn’t going to be a customer or on edge with the possibility it was going to be something much worse._

_“You’ll see,” was all Aran said as he turned off the engine and opened his door, “Come on.”_

_Clawdeen looked around warily as he opened the front door and led them into the shop. Immediately, she was hit with the overwhelming stench of tobacco. The shop was cramped, glass shelves filling nearly every inch of the floor and the wall. Inside of them were dozens of various e-cigarettes, weed pipes, and endless cartons of cigarettes._

_A smoke shop, Clawdeen though grimly, wrinkling her nose as the bitter scent stung her nostrils. The place didn’t seem to be doing well, in terms of upkeep or service, if the lack of customers and the grime and dust covering the shelves._

_Aran rapped on the glass of the counter near the cash register._

_“Just a minute,” someone called from the back, “Whatever you need, make it quick, ‘cause we’re about to close.”_

_There was some movement in the doorway, before a bunyip appeared and pushed the curtain back, a few cartons in his hand. He looked up and stopped short when he saw the monsters standing before him._

_Clawdeen watched as he narrowed his eyes, casting a glance behind at the clock on the far wall before looking down at his watch._

_“Shit, it’s that time already?” he questioned._

_“Hope we weren’t interrupting anything,” Aran frowned, “Even though this **was** the time we agreed on.” _

_“Hold your horses, I’ll be ready in a minute,” the bunyip replied, “Just gotta close up the shop first.”_

_He walked past them and the counter to the front, digging out a keyring from the pocket of his baggy jeans as he shut out the lights and flipped the closed sign on the door. The two of them watched as he went outside and pulled the security gate in front of the windows, where he reached through one of the grates to lock it from the other side, before he turned back to them._

_“Okay,” he said, clasping his hands shut, before he pointed past them, “To the back.”_

_They followed him past the curtain, where he led them from the small hallway to a door on the end near the exit._

_Clawdeen paused. The room was a regular old storage room, with metal shelves holding boxes stacked on one another lining the walls, but the middle area had been cleared out to hold some sort of folding chair. It was large, with torn red upholstery and a pump to boost it up. It looked like it could be sat up or laid back, somewhat like a car seat. Next to it sat a table with a metal tray on it._

_She looked at Aran. The whole thing was sketchy; the small room with the dim lighting and the chair reminded her of something out of a horror movie, like that one film where the serial killer strapped down victims and forced them to mutilate themselves to get out of traps that would lead to certain death._

_(The comparison did nothing to soothe her nerves over the possible reason Aran had brought her here)._

_“So,” her attention turned to the bunyip as he spoke up, the latter turning around as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, “Another marking?”_

_“Figured it was about time I got around to it,” Aran said._

_“What did you have in mind?” the bunyip added, “Tattoo, or piercing this time?”_

_Aran said, “I was actually thinking of maybe both. You know, get all the most obvious places so people will see right then and there who they’re messing with.”_

_Clawdeen glanced between them._

_A marking? What were they talking about? And something about tattoos and piercings? She doubted the bunyip had a license to legally perform such a task on people, if the cramped little storage area wasn’t a dead giveaway…and if there was any small chance he did, he most definitely should’ve had it revoked by now._

_“That could work,” The bunyip said, “It’s gonna cost you extra, though. Any particular areas you have in mind?”_

_Clawdeen stumbled as Aran suddenly grabbed her upper arms and roughly turned her around, so that her front side faced his chest and her back was to the bunyip. She looked at him with confusion, but he ignored her as he continued talking to the bunyip, while he pulled her hair away from her neck._

_“I was thinking something along here,” he said, as Clawdeen felt him tug down the back of her shirt and press against her back, “And another one a little farther down. I was also thinking maybe one of the arms.”_

_“And let me guess, the lady parts for the piercings?” the bunyip said._

_“No, I wanted to get her nose pierced,” Aran responded sarcastically, “Where else do you think?”_

_“Just asking. Some men really like to get creative with this stuff,” the bunyip replied._

_Clawdeen felt her hackles raise at the mention of her “lady parts” and piercings. She was beginning to have an inkling of what they meant- and she didn’t like it one bit._

_“Well, then, let’s get started then,” the bunyip said._

_She looked over her shoulder to see him pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. She turned back to Aran, who gave her a small smile of support._

_“Daddy…?”_

_“Selena, do you like making me happy?” he asked._

_Uh-oh. That question was never a good sign. Clawdeen swallowed hard, “O-Of course I do, Daddy.”_

_“Then I just need you to listen and be still for a little bit while this guy does his business,” Aran replied, “Take off your shirt.”_

_Slowly, Clawdeen obeyed, although she still looked unsure as she grasped the hem of her shirt. She began to pull it off, but paused when she heard the bunyip put something down nearby that sounded large._

_She looked over her shoulder to see he had pulled out a case and deposited it on the on the tray next to the chair, where he opened it up and began to remove items from it to place on the tray. One object was rather big metal piece that had a few cylinders rigged on it, with its focal piece being what looked to be a large needle._

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened in horror as she realized it was a tattoo machine._

_It finally clicked in her mind the exact context of the men’s conversation; dread immediately washed over her. She whirled around, giving Aran a look of terror._

_“What’s with you? Go on, remove it,” he urged._

_She just gaped at him. He seemed to finally register why she looked so frightened, as his eyes softened and he approached her, gently holding her by the elbows._

_“Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he said in a soothing tone, “I know you’re scared, but I promise, it’s only going to take a few minutes.”_

_“Yeah, I’ll make sure to be extra gentle,” the bunyip joked, grinning up at her, “I’ll even try not to make you bleed too much.”_

_Clawdeen sucked in a breath. Her claws pierced the fabric of her shirt as panic overtook her. She looked up to Aran pleadingly._

_“D-Daddy, I…”_

_“Don’t be difficult, now,” Aran said, a bit of an edge in his voice, “The sooner you do what you’re told, the sooner it will be over, now take your shirt off.”_

_“Daddy, p-please don’t make do this,” Clawdeen begged, “Please, anything else, I swear I’ll do, but not this. Please-“_

_“Selena, do as you’re told. Don’t make me have to punish you,” Aran replied coldly. His eyes were icy blue with anger._

_“Please, Daddy, no!” Clawdeen sobbed, “Please, I don’t want to do this!”_

_She clung to his jacket, hysterical by this point. The fury in Aran’s eyes was obvious, but despite the fear of the inevitable punishment that was sure to come later for her insubordination, but the fear of the large tattoo needle drilling into her skin and the bunyip poking and prodding at her most intimate areas was even greater._

_Aran’s jaw clenched angrily. He rolled his eyes, before he reached up and roughly grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to the chair. Clawdeen sobbed, in vain pleading with him to stop as he pulled off her shirt and forced her on her stomach onto the chair._

_“No, no, no, please-“_

_“If you struggle, your punishment will be worse, Selena,” Aran growled, “Now hold still.”_

_Clawdeen wanted to keep struggling, but he held her down with his hands on her arms and back, preventing her from getting up. She gripped the upholstery and whimpered as she felt the bunyip brush her hair back from her neck, before he lightly gripped the area just under her skull, keeping her head restrained in its face down position._

_“Just try and count backwards from one hundred,” he advised, “It’ll all be over before you know it.”_

_A small buzzing sound suddenly filled up the room. It was a dull, incessant sound; it reminded Clawdeen of a dentist’s drill._

_She shut her eyes and braced herself for the pain that was sure to come the second the needle came into contact with her flesh. Her palms grew sweaty against the cracked leather._

_Nothing could’ve prepared her for the absolute burning sting that came as the bunyip pressed the metal against her skin, nor the dull vibration that accompanied it that rattled all the way down to her bones. Clawdeen began to thrash, kicking out against the pain as Aran and the bunyip held her down with their weight._

_Through the white-hot pain that overtook every thought, it dimly occurred to her that she was screaming._

* * *

 

_Later that night, she stood in front of the mirror._

_Clawdeen trailed her eyes down her reflection, observing her body. She was naked, allowing her to observe every little marking and wound that lingered on her skin._

_She was thinner, she noticed, her curves not as defined as they used to be and her once well-toned arms and legs now gangly, like the limbs of a newborn giraffe. The small circular burn scars from cigarettes dotted her arms like the polka dots on some morbid clown costume. On her chest area, little ring shapes and tiny craters marred the surface of her breasts- bite marks, from where their teeth and fangs had broken the skin, causing it to roughen up and scar over like a dog’s chew toy._

_What she focused on the most, however, were the pieces of metal and ink that now stuck out against her red and swollen flesh. The areas throbbed with pain and itched incessantly, but she didn’t dare try to scratch, not wanting to irritate them and make them hurt even worse._

_Three tattoos and three piercings._

_All of them shining brand new on her skin, as if to mock her with their presence. All of them done within the backroom of that crappy little smoke shop. Every one of them feeling like the combined bite of a venomous snake and a nest full of fire ants as the bunyip placed them on her body._

_Tears pricked her eyes as she examined them; her nipples had both been pierced, horizontal twin bars having been inserted so their spherical caps rested on either side. The metal was a cheap quality, the surfaces scratched and dented from carelessness. On her right arm, a crudely drawn red heart stuck out like a giant burn, the area still tender and raw and leaking plasma. Around the edge of the heart, in sloppy black writing, were the words GUTTER BITCH._

_Clawdeen turned around. Two more rested on her back. Between her shoulder-blades was a picture of a burlap sack (though it looked more like a blob with its messy lines). A large green dollar sign rested in the middle it, while several numbers were printed below it- seventy, thirty, and four hundred. The last number had a plus sign printed next to it. The last tattoo rested on her lower back. A tramp stamp, consisting of a pair of loops that were sorry excuses for ram horns, with Aran’s name printed in thick black letters between them._

_That wasn’t the most humiliating one, though. The worst was the third piercing, the one that probably hurt the most. Aran and the bunyip practically had to wrench her legs open to do it. Clawdeen sucked in a breath- she didn’t want to look at it, but the ache from it was too great to ignore. Tears falling down her cheeks, her gaze lingered in the mirror before she hung her head and forced herself to look down._

_Between her legs, right at the apex of her clitoral hood, was the third piercing. Unlike her breasts, this one wasn’t a bar. Instead, a ring hung from it, the small captive bead that held it in place gleaming in the light._

_Clawdeen stared at it, humiliation burning deeply inside._

_Tags and markings, to remind everyone who saw her that she was Aran’s. A reminder to her of how who she belonged to. Like a notebook someone wrote their name in permanent marker in. A piece of property to be owned._

_She wanted nothing more than to claw at the piercings and rip them out. She wanted to dig her claws into skin around the tattoos and yank until they were finally off her body, get a piece of sandpaper and rub it away until there was nothing but bone._

_There was a flash of movement in the mirror behind her. A second later, Aran came waltzing into the bathroom. His eyes darkened with pleasure at the sight of her standing there undressed. He came up behind her and looked at her in the mirror, his hands sliding up her thighs to rest on her hips. Clawdeen kept her eyes glued straight ahead; she didn’t want to see the want in his eyes or the way he was licking his lips in temptation._

_“Now everyone will know you’re mine and mine alone,” Aran said softly, lightly stroking her hips, “Now and forever.”_

_Clawdeen clenched her teeth. He’d stayed when they’d come back earlier to help her sanitize and clean the modifications, saying how they didn’t need her coming down with an infection over something as silly as a new tattoo, now did they? That way they’d heal up nice and clean and “pretty for everyone to see”, as he put it._

_It was always just one big fucking joke with him. He didn’t even care about the pain it caused her. Just as long as his branding remained on her permanently._

_Aran frowned as he watched her solemn expression. She wouldn’t look at him, preferring to keep her gaze down like a whipped dog._

_“At least they’ll heal over time,” he said, “There are some guys out there who choose to mark their bitches in even worse ways.”_

_“I know,” Clawdeen replied, her voice barely a whisper._

_Because somehow, she was supposed to feel grateful that he chose to mark her by having ink drilled into the surface of her skin and metal shoved through delicate areas and not something more extreme like him actually having her branded like a cow._

_Luckily, he didn’t seem to be in the mood for scolding her, so he instead just squeezed her shoulders before pulling his hands away._

_“Don’t do anything to irritate them now,” he said, “I’ll be back in the morning.”_

_“Yes sir,” Clawdeen said mechanically, watching him from the mirror as he left and disappeared into the living room._

_She listened in and heard the front door slam shut a moment later. She was dimly aware of the fact that by now, she was starting to shake. Her hands clenched the edge of the sink in a white-knuckled grip like it was some kind of lifeline._

_Finally alone to her thoughts, she just stood there and allowed herself to cry._

* * *

 

Clawdeen awoke with a jerk, a strange sudden sensation of falling jolting her from her sleep. She blinked, looking around the room as she tried to grasp her surroundings. Whatever she’d been dreaming about flew away in a rush without her so much as remembering even a second of it.

She pushed herself up on her elbows, watching mindlessly as the early summer sun creeped in through the blinds. It was getting brighter out, much earlier and lasting much later. A bit of a blessing and a curse at the same time; on one hand, it was finally warming up from the bone-chilling cold that wracked DC from late autumn to late spring. On the other, though, it meant often having to stay out later to find clients. Many were hesitant to pick up streetwalkers when it was still daylight out with so many coming outside more frequently.

The definite downside was that it got hot as hell in the building come summer. Clawdeen fanned herself with her hand, groaning as she felt the room grow stuffy, the poor insulation of the walls taking in all the heat from outside. Within minutes, it felt like the inside of an oven and became unbearable laying under the blankets.

Throwing them aside, Clawdeen got up from the mattress and made her way to the bathroom. She felt disgusting, feeling sweat coat her whole body and grease up her hair; hopefully, the feeling of cleanliness after a shower should help get her off on the right foot.

After she got out, she stood in front of the mirror brushing her teeth. She winced at the sting that came as the rough bristles made contact with various cavities and canker sores. She was in serious need of a dentist’s visit- if the fact that her gums were constantly bleeding wasn’t obvious enough- but unless her teeth were falling out, Aran had told her to just suck it up.

As she brushed, she leaned forward, supporting herself against the sink with one hand grasped to the bowl. Doing so caused her sleeve to ride up, exposing the skin of her upper arm.

Her eyes slid to the skin of her arm, eyeing the tattoo there. Clawdeen pulled the toothbrush away from her mouth, a bitter taste filling her mouth as she eyed the sloppy red heart in the mirror. She swallowed, cringing as she accidentally ended up gulping some toothpaste, the strong minty taste burning her throat.

Memories of the night she got them lingered at the edge of her mind.

She hated the tattoos with every fiber in her being. Them and the piercings that graced her chest and private area. She’d get embarrassed whenever a client noticed them and pointed them out, hating the recognition across their faces that let them know that she “officially” belonged to Aran.

The fact that they were permanent was just salt in the wound.

This way, she’d never be able to leave. Not without the constant reminder right there on her skin, for her and the rest of the world to see.

To let them all know she was nothing more than his plaything. His object of desire to be used for his personal needs.

A dirty slut who was below even the trash in the gutters.

Clawdeen frowned, willing the memories away. Last night hadn’t ended on a good note, and she didn’t get much sleep either. She didn’t want to start off with a bad morning by getting caught up in upsetting past events.

Still, even as she put on her makeup and did her hair, she found her hand wandering to her back, her arm curling up behind her to touch the tattoo that rested between her shoulders.

She remembered the burn that lingered there for weeks during their recovery. How even after doing everything to sanitize and clean them, even with Aran’s help, them and her piercings had gotten infected, causing her to lie in bed for three days with a fever.

Clawdeen remembered how she became delirious from it, unsure of what was real and what was just images her sick and overheated mind had made up. Through the haze, she could remember that she was mostly upset that she wouldn’t be able to go out and work. Aran would have to spend money on medicine to make her better, which she would have to make up later with overtime work to meet her quota on the days she’d missed.

It was funny, she thought bitterly. She could’ve very well died, and yet in the moment she was still more concerned with keeping the satyr happy.

_And here I thought I had even a little bit of dignity left,_ Clawdeen thought as she put on her lipstick.

 Not that she was necessarily surprised by this point. That was just how people like Aran worked; he had wormed his way in, breaking her and getting to her and pulling things apart to put them back together in a way that was suited for him, so he was at the forefront of everything she did. Every reason she had for doing something somehow came back to him and keeping him pacified for her own good.

It was scary, to think how he had managed to get so deeply in her head. What was worse, Clawdeen thought, was looking back and seeing how easy it had been for him, and how readily she’d come to accept it...

* * *

 

_The bed under them was creaking so loudly Clawdeen thought it was about to break under their weight. The bedsprings cried out with a sound equivalent to the squawking of a thousand tiny birds, begging to be relieved from the gargantuan presence atop them._

_“Oh, yeah, baby, you feel so good,” the ogre hissed, throwing his full weight into the movement of his hips, “You like it when I’m rough?”_

_Clawdeen rolled her eyes._

_“Oh, yeah, Daddy, it hurts,” she said flatly, “It really does.”_

_What was with these guys and being so loud whenever they were close to finishing? It was like whenever they could feel themselves about to orgasm, they always had to get all loud and put on some type of show, even though it was only the two of them in the room._

_Was this how all guys acted during sex? Clawdeen thought. Even in the few pornographic videos she’d watched in private when she was younger had the dude getting all red in the face and gasping; you’d think he was closer to having a heart attack than blowing his load._

_“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know you like it,” the ogre said, not taking notice of her blasé attitude, “O-Oh god, oh god…”_

_Clawdeen cringed as he started moving faster. Their stomachs clapped together with the force of his thrusts, forcing her to feel the stickiness of his sweat as it dripped from his large beer belly to hers. It didn’t even hurt, but the feeling was rather annoying, like that of someone repeatedly shoving their finger in your nose. Plus, he stunk._

_She rolled her head onto its side on the pillow, glancing at the clock that hung on the wall of his apartment. The hands read that it was two forty-two._

_Just ten more minutes, she told herself. She just had to go along with this shit for ten more minutes, and then she could go home and shower and get his stench off her._

_The ogre let out a high-pitched howl that hurt her ears and gripped her shoulders tightly, keeping her pinned to the mattress as he spent himself. Taking a deep breath, he smiled down at Clawdeen, leaning onto his elbows to give her a kiss on the lips._

_“Oh, that was wonderful,” he said, “You made me feel so good. You’re amazing.”_

_“Thanks,” Clawdeen said with a smile, although once he sat up and turned his back, she frowned and shook her head at him._

_It was sad how obvious it was some of these guys had never had any sort of luck with girls. They were so awkward and overly excited for just being near her, it was almost pitiful._

_The ogre led her to the door after they got dressed. Clawdeen had her head down as she walked, focused on counting out the money he’d given her earlier. Right as she was about to walk out the door, she felt him tug at her arm and looked up._

_“I really enjoyed our time together, Selena,” he said with a grin, “Would it possible to see you again?”_

_‘God, I hope not,’ Clawdeen thought. She smiled at him, “Well, that’s up to my Daddy.”_

_“Of course!” the ogre said, “I’ll be sure to talk to him. I just…I just really feel like we’ve had a connection and I’d love to explore it more.”_

_“Sounds great,” Clawdeen replied, though internally she was gagging._

_Now, this was just pathetic. Even moreso was the fact that this wasn’t the first time hearing something like this; the ogre had to have been the fourth or fifth guy who acted like he’d just met his soulmate when his eyes landed on her. So far, she’d been given jewelry, flowers, and at least two even proposed to her. It was as if she was an angel sent down from Aphrodite than some random hooker they paid Aran to have for an hour._

_The ogre smiled brightly. He opened the door for her and ushered through. “Well, I hope to see you soon.”_

_“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Clawdeen said in passing as she lowered her head, turning her attention back to the money in her hand._

_She stepped out into the sunlight, hearing him close the door behind her. Starting for the stairs to meet Aran at the corner, she flipped through the bills, muttering under her breath as she tried to do the math of how much she’d gotten out of her quota._

_Flipping one bill past, Clawdeen suddenly paused._

_She frowned, realizing something was off about it. Its texture felt different- instead of the crispness or sometimes worn softness that came with old bills, it was slick. Like a piece of plastic._

_Pulling it free from the pile and stuffing the rest into her pocket, Clawdeen held it up to the sun, examining the material._

_The holograph of the faces didn’t match. Instead of seeing Bloodjamin Frankill, she could see one picture him on the side of the bill facing her, while the other side projected a silhouette that looked vaguely like Abraharm Linchorn._

_Clawdeen let her arms fall as her mouth dropped open in disbelief. She glanced down at the bills in her pocket that he’d given her, before she dug them out and rifled through them, holding each one up to see she was getting the same result as the first._

_“Mother…fucker!” she hissed under her breath, whipping around to shoot his front door a death glare._

_Oh, hell no, he was NOT going to get away with trying to cheat her out of four hundred dollars. He was not going to make her look like a fool in front of Aran._

_Stomping back to the front door, Clawdeen banged her fist against it, the harsh rapping of the metal slightly echoing in the large apartment complex. She stood back with her arms crossed as she heard his footsteps from within._

_The ogre opened the door, his eyes widening with surprise at her presence. “Selena?”_

_“Just who the hell do you take me for?!” Clawdeen snapped, holding up the counterfeit bills, “You agreed with Aran four hundred. That was the deal! No more, no less.”_

_The ogre frowned in confusion, “What’re you talking about? I gave you four hundred.”_

_“Four hundred **real** dollars, asshole! Not this synthetic shit!” Clawdeen replied, wagging one fake bill in his face, “We had a deal!” _

_The ogre stepped back, slightly surprised at her outburst. He blinked, before one of his brows slowly raised like he was impressed._

_“Yes, we did,” he said, “And I upheld that deal. You said four hundred dollars, I gave you four hundred dollars. You never specified it had to be real or fake.”_

_Clawdeen grit her teeth in anger. The fake bills crumpled in her palm as she balled her fist. Her eyes were a pair of bright yellow daggers as she glared up at the ogre with resentment._

_“If you don’t give me my money-“_

_“You’ll what? Go to the cops?” the ogre laughed, “Go ahead, you’ll earn yourself a nice one way trip into the pound when they find out what you’ve been up to.”_

_Clawdeen growled at his mockery. Her claws flexed with the urge to swipe at his face and wipe the stupid grin right off it._

_However, she held back. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her shoulders dropping as they relaxed from the tension. She opened them back up and looked back at the ogre; the latter furrowed his brows in confusion at her calm expression. The anger in her eyes was gone, but there was something challenging within them, like she had something else up her sleeve._

_“Fine,” Clawdeen said, “Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way. If you’re not going to give me my money, I’ll guess I’ll just have to come in and get it myself.”_

_She suddenly started to push past him, making her way back into the small apartment. Her eyes locked onto where his wallet lay on the counter._

_“Hey!” the ogre said as he whirled around._

_Clawdeen grabbed his wallet and started to rifle through it. She spotted two fifty’s and a hundred bill and reached to pull them out but was stopped as the ogre stormed towards her and grabbed her arm._

_“The hell do you think you’re doing, get the hell out my house!” he exclaimed._

_“I will, as soon as I get the money you owe me,” Clawdeen said shortly as she yanked her arm away and grabbed the bills._

_She went to stuff them into the pocket of her skirt, only to feel him grab her wrist and hold it up; she winced as she felt his thumb apply pressure to the nerve there. The ogre glared at her, leaning in so that she could smell the remnants of energy drinks and chicken on his breath._

_“I don’t think you understand where exactly you are right now, girlie,” he said- the awkwardness he’d displayed at her earlier in his cheesy dialogue was entirely gone- “You’re here to do as I say. And I say it’s time for your little ass to leave, without MY money in your hand.”_

_His eyes drifted down her front, lingering on her bust. “But,” he added, “Seeing as you’re so eager to get back inside, I guess we’ll have another round while we’re at it.”_

_Clawdeen bristled as he pressed against her, using his weight to force her to back up against the counter. She tried to push at his chest, only for him to grab her other hand pin it to the counter. The ogre pushed more, forcing to lean backwards against the counter at an uncomfortable angle._

_“Let go of me! Get off!” she objected as he leaned forward and started kissing her neck, fighting his grip on her hands. His hold was like a pair of handcuffs, though, and he managed to counter her movements as he pressed their bodies tighter together._

_“Sweet girl,” he murmured, “You liked it when I was rough, didn’t you?”_

_With one quick motion, he had both her wrists encased in one of his giant hands, while his other went up to grip her under the thigh and pull her up so that she sat on the counter._

_Clawdeen’s struggling intensified as he began to trail his hand up her leg, gripping the hem of her skirt and beginning to push it up. A spike of fear went through her- the feeling of being held down and forced upon sent her survival instincts into overdrive._

_However, whatever fear she had was overshadowed by the immense anger she felt at his touch. First he wanted to deny paying for his services, and now he thought he was going to get a freebie just because he was bigger? Especially when Aran would be waiting for her? Fuck that. She wasn’t going to be on the receiving end of the satyr’s hand tonight because this jackass wanted to have his cake and eat it too._

_“Oh, yeah, go ahead and squirm baby. Just the way Daddy likes it. Just like- AH!”_

_With him distracted by trying to undo her clothes, he hadn’t noticed how close the arm that was holding the werewolf’s hands was to her face. Clawdeen lunged, biting down hard and seeking her teeth into the tender meat of his forearm._

_The ogre howled, immediately releasing her as he threw himself back to grasp his arm. A crude circle of teeth marks marred his green skin, blood oozing from the holes._

_Clawdeen pushed herself off the counter and ran past him, aiming for the front door._

_“HEY!” the ogre yelled._

_He ran for her, catching her just as she got through the doorway. He got her arm in an iron grip and shoved her against the wall next to the door. Clawdeen let out a cry as the rough plaster dug at the back of her shoulders._

_“GET OFF ME!” she screamed, pummeling at his chest with her fists._

_“Why, you rotten little cunt!” the ogre roared, raising his fist like he was about to strike._

_“NO!” Clawdeen raised her hands in a bid to protect herself._

_“Hey, hey, HEY!”_

_He was shoved away from her before he could make the impact. Him and Clawdeen stumbled back and looked in surprise to see who had gotten between them. Clawdeen felt her heart sink when she realized it was Aran._

_“What the hell’s going on here?” the satyr asked in disbelief, holding Clawdeen by the arm while his other hand was pressed flatly against the ogre’s chest._

_The ogre slapped his arm away and held up his bleeding arm. “You need to learn to control your bitch, that’s what up! Look at what she did, she fucking bit me!”_

_Aran glanced down. His eyes widened as he took note of the bloody gashes in the ogre’s skin, which by now had completely covered his whole arm and stained his shirt with red._

_“I was just minding my own business, and then she gets all feral on me, trying to steal my money and gets on me when I throw her out!” the ogre lied, “I’m telling you man, she needs a muzzle or something.”_

_Clawdeen lowered her ears as she saw Aran’s fists clench, wincing as he whirled on her with a furious look in his eyes._

_“What the hell were you thinking?!” he scolded her harshly, yanking her towards him- Clawdeen withheld a yelp as his grip tightened painfully, “What the hell were you doing?!”_

_“He didn’t pay me in full, Daddy!” Clawdeen defended, already on the verge of tears, “He gave me fake money! I swear it’s the truth!”_

_She held up the fake bills to him in desperation. Aran narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched like he wanted to say something else as he glanced down at the bills. She noticed him suddenly pause, like something had caught his eye, before he took one from her and held it up to the light himself._

_Relief filled her instantly as she saw some flicker in his features; he’d seen the counterfeit too._

_Aran turned to the ogre, holding up the bill accusingly._

_“You trying to cheat my bitch here, Kroger?” he questioned._

_The ogre paled, obviously now caught in the act. Ignoring the blood still dripping from his arm, he held up his hands up defensively. “W-What do you mean, man-“_

_“Don’t bullshit me, this shit might as well be Monopoly money!” Aran snapped, throwing the fake at his feet and stepping towards him, “You try to a pull fast one on me, and now I walk in on you trying to get rile up my bitch too? You must think I’m pretty fucking stupid, don’t you?”_

_He was a good foot and a half shorter and not nearly as broad, but the ogre took a frightened stepped back as Aran approached him. Clawdeen hung back, silently observing the situation. In the moment, she was just relieved that it wasn’t her this time._

_“I-I-I’m sorry man,” the ogre stammered out, “I w-was gonna pay you back eventually, with the real stuff, I swear! I’m just a little short on cash right now-“_

_The relief Clawdeen was feeling immediately turned to shock and fright as Aran swung his fist and decked the ogre right in the face._

_The latter let out a loud yelp, like that of a kicked dog, as his head snapped to the side from the force; blood came gushing out of his nose, spraying onto the sidewalk. Before he had a chance to recover, Aran punched him in the stomach, causing him to double over, only for the satyr to grab his head and bring it down on his knee._

_Clawdeen put her hands to her mouth, terrified. She looked around warily. What if someone saw them?_

_Aran let go of the ogre, letting the latter fall to his knees. He cradled his stomach, moaning in pain. The scene looked rather monstrous, blood from his arm and nose now splattered all over his clothes and the concrete of the walkway. It was starting to look like a murder scene._

_“You like that, you measly fuck? Huh?” Aran said, grabbing his hair, “You want some more?”_

_“No, no, please,” the ogre begged pitifully, “I beg you, please stop.”_

_“Give her the fucking money,” the satyr demanded._

_The ogre shot to his feet and scrambled back into the apartment. He swiped his wallet from the counter and, hands shaking, pulled out a few fifties and a ten. He held them out to Aran fearfully, his body hunched backwards like he was bracing himself for a hit._

_Aran grabbed them from him and gave him a dirty look, before holding them up to the light again to double check that they were real. He then handed them to Clawdeen, who cautiously took them and put them into her purse._

_“Don’t fuck with me again, Kroger,” Aran said, “Or next time, I may just have to send in some company.”_

_The ogre nodded in understanding. He practically rushed back into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, leaving a small splatter of blood to dry in front of it. Clawdeen looked between it and Aran, weary of the satyr’s next move._

_Finally, Aran turned to her and looked her in the eye._

_“Let’s go,” was all he said._

_Clawdeen followed behind him like a lost puppy as they made their way down the stairs and into the parking lot. She eyed him out of the corner of her eye as they put their seatbelts on. A bout of nervousness still lingered in her chest; was he still going to punish her? After all, she had attacked a customer. And in broad daylight, too, where she would’ve been screwed if someone had ended up calling the cops._

_“Daddy,” she spoke up, unable to bear the silence, “Am…am I in trouble?”_

_To her surprise, Aran shook his head. “Nah,” he answered, “That fucker was a damn scammer. He deserves the fucking rabies._

_“You got to be careful about that, though, Sel,” he scolded, giving her a quick look from his peripheral, “You can never be too sure what kind of shit these guys will pull. Next time, make sure you double check the money before doing anything with him, understand?”_

_Clawdeen nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”_

_She felt something flutter in her chest as his hand slid down to rest on her knee._

_“Can’t have my best ghoul getting duped like that,” Aran added, “You work too hard to let them pull a fast one over on you like that.”_

_“You…you really think so?” Clawdeen asked, feeling herself blush._

_“Yeah, you’ve been on you’re a-game this month. Keep it up and I might have to reward you,” he replied with a smile._

_That made the werewolf smile back in response. Clawdeen looked down, feeling her cheeks warm at his compliment. She found herself continuously sneaking glances at her knee, where his hand remained resting as he drove._

_Turning her attention back onto the road, she didn’t even try to subtly remove his hand. Instead, she took great joy in the feeling, a bright smile marking her face as she stared ahead. The knowledge that he was satisfied with her work- that, and the fact that he wasn’t going to punish her for biting the ogre- pleased her greatly._

_She was almost excited to get to spend the rest of the evening with him._

* * *

 

_‘Oh, this should be good,’ Clawdeen thought as she caught of strong whiff of marijuana and cheap beer. It was barely even ten, and already she could see at least half a dozen students stumbling around on the front lawn, obviously wasted beyond all means. Some of them barely looked old enough to even be out of high school, much less one of these parties._

_There were a few guys standing around on the front porch smoking. Their heads lifted as her and Aran got out of the car; immediately, Clawdeen could feel all their eyes on her as they made their way up to the house. James, Vixen, and Kimber followed in after them._

_“Oi, who’re you?” one of them asked, nodding at the group._

_“Is Brandon here?” Aran asked, “We’ve got the ‘special delivery’ he was asking for?”_

_The guy’s face lit up instantly._

_“Oh, yeah!” he proclaimed, “Come right in, everyone’s been waiting for you guys to show up.”_

_He led them inside, where all the guys stopped mid conversation to eye Clawdeen and the girls. She kept her gaze down, trying to ignore the feeling of all of them staring at her as they made their way into the frat house. They were guided into the living room, where the three female monsters were ordered to sit down._

_To her surprise, there were two other girls sitting at the couch as well- a dragon girl with red scale-covered skin and neon coral hair, and a cyborg with a large robotic eye and hot purple cyberlocks entwined in her lime green hair. Both of them were dressed in casual clothing and holding solo cups; the cyborg wore a blue and grey letterman jacket with patches of a G and a bulldog sewn onto the left sleeve._

_Unlike the guys, though, the girls looked uneasy. They raised their heads in surprise at the three as they sat down, the dragon’s eyes frowning in displeasure at the sight. Clawdeen lowered her gaze to the floor, thinking she’d done something wrong._

_“Okay, we got twelve hundred for the wolf and fourteen hundred each for the chupa and the baobhan sith,” the blonde narrated as he handed the men each a stack of money, “That all correct?”_

_“Fourteen?” Aran said, giving James a smirk, “A little confident over your toys there, aren’t you, James?”_

_“It’s compensation for them making me come onto a fucking campus of all places,” James said, looking back to the blonde._

_Meanwhile, Clawdeen sat silently on the couch while she stared at the floor. She could feel Vixen fidget next to her, while the steady clinking of charms inferred to her that Kimber was fiddling with her bracelet. She held her nails up, examining them to try and pass the time. The pink paint on them was staring to chip. She made a mental note to redo them later, as well as file them down, noting how a few were starting to get jagged around the edges._

_It occurred to her she could feel someone’s gaze burning into hers, one that was different from the ogling of the other frat guys as they chatted about. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes meeting a pair of silver snake slit ones staring back at her._

_The dragon girl stared at her intensely, her brows knitted together in a stern expression. The cyborg next to her kept her eyes darting back and forth, seemingly switching her gaze between the three girls like she couldn’t decide who to focus her attention on._

_Something about her glare made Clawdeen uneasy. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to keep eye contact with her._

_Her shoulders suddenly hunched as she felt someone’s hand slide onto her bare shoulder. She glanced up to find a presumable member of the frat, a spider cryptid, looking down at her lustfully. His fingers lightly stroked the slope of where her shoulder met her neck as he leaned down to whisper into her ear._

_“Really looking forward to having some one-on-one with you, princess,” he whispered, “Just remember, when you have a chance, tell them RJ wants a turn.”_

_He leaned in and gave her a brisk kiss at the edge of her jaw, his warm breath on her neck making goosebumps run down her skin. Clawdeen smiled up at him uneasily as he leaned back; he gave her a wink, before he turned and headed in the direction of the kitchen. The feeling of his kiss made her skin crawl, but she knew she’d have to play it up for tonight._

_She turned back to face forward and she caught the dragon’s eyes again. The latter narrowed her eyes, her chin jutting forward as her lips curled up in a deep frown of displeasure. Clawdeen tilted her head, confused._

_A realization suddenly hit her as she thought about the scene that had just transpired with the spider. The dragon wasn’t jealous was she? Clawdeen lowered her gaze submissively, her face burning with embarrassment. What if that guy was her boyfriend? God, and here she was, entertaining his little lewd thoughts like a total skank!_

_She didn’t have much time to mull over it, as right then, the blonde monster came back into the living room._

_“Okay, gentlemen, time to get this show on the road!” he announced, “Now, we got three lovely ladies with us tonight, and I know all of you are looking for a great time, so who’s ready to get some action!”_

_The rest of the frat hollered in excitement, some of them raising their solo cups up in a mock toast. The whole sight looked so much like it was cut and copied exactly from some sappy teen movie from the early 2000’s that Clawdeen had to keep from slapping her forehead._

_“They’re so excited. Probably the first and last pussy they’ll ever get,” she heard Vixen whisper beside her, which made her put a hand to her mouth to withhold the snort that came out of her. Vixen looked at her out of the corner of her eye, smirking._

_“Okay, so everyone who wants to go gets a turn, but because some churned out more money than ours, they get to go first,” the blonde explained, “So Trevor, Barney, Gary, you guys are up first!”_

_“Yes!” someone hissed from the back, before a strigoi came walking up to the center of the room, “Told you I’d get first dibs!”_

_“I call the green one,” someone said as he approached Clawdeen and held his hand out._

_She smiled and took it and allowed him to direct her towards the stairs, where a few of the guys let out whoops and lewd jeers as they walked past. A few even copped a feel; Clawdeen had to bite her tongue to fight the urge to whirl around and claw their faces._

_“Man, I’ve been needing this for a while,” the strigoi said as he led her to his room, “School’s been cockblocking me like crazy. All these tests and reports, I haven’t gone to one party in months.”_

_He turned and shut the door, “You won’t believe how much energy can build up when you can’t get your rocks off.”_

_Clawdeen smiled, smoothing out her dress._

_“Well, then,” she said, slowly approaching him with an exaggerated sway of her hips, “Allow me to help you expend some of that energy.”_

_She ran her hands up and down his chest, smirking at the way she could feel him shudder. He watched her with anticipation as she slid down to her knees and started undoing his belt._

_“The one question I have, though, is: do you want to take control?” she asked as she got his fly open, making eye contact with him, “Or do you want me to?”_

_She watched him swallow hard, before she lowered her gaze and brought her mouth towards his groin._

_They ended up doing it in his bed, both of them stripped of their clothes all the way; Clawdeen could hear other guys outside the door listening in on the act, as they let out cheers of encouragement whenever she or the strigoi gave out particularly loud sounds._

_After they were done, another guy immediately scooped her up from the room and took her to his dorm, where he had her be on top. The third guy didn’t even bother to wait until she had her clothes off, shoving her to the carpet once the door slammed and lifting up her dress so he could take her in the ass; Clawdeen winced as she felt herself roughly stretched._

_The fourth guy couldn’t even wait for the bedroom. He snatched her up and pulled her into a bathroom, where he fucked her against the wall and on the counter._

_When he finished, he left her there, mumbling something about needing a beer or something. Figuring the next guy would come by soon enough, Clawdeen took advantage of the small window of time she had to freshen up and fix her makeup._

_As she reapplied her lipstick, there was a knock at the door._

_“Just a second,” Clawdeen called out._

_“Hey, uh, it’s me,” a woman’s voice said from the other side, “The girl from, um, the couch. Could I come in?”_

_Clawdeen paused. She turned, staring at the door._

_What did the dragon girl want with her? Or was it the cyborg? Did she want a turn as well? Or did she want to get back at Clawdeen, on the chance that one of the guys she’d been with happened to have been her or the cyborg’s boyfriend, or both?_

_She suddenly felt a pit of fear drop into her stomach. If they wanted to come at her, she had no way to go- not that she could defend herself anyway, lest she get Aran on her ass for hurting a customer._

_Her hackles rose as she heard the knob jiggle, before it began to turn. Clawdeen took a hesitant step back as the door slowly opened; she stiffened as she saw the dragon’s bright pink head pop in._

_She stilled, bracing herself for whatever move the reptile was going to make._

_The dragon held up her hands up passively as she slowly inched herself into the bathroom, shutting the door shut with her foot._

_“I-It’s okay, you don’t have to be scared,” she said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”_

_Clawdeen swallowed hard. “I…I-I’m not scared.”_

_The dragon approached her, “I just…I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You and…and those other two._

_“You…you could trust me, you know,” she added, “I…My friend and I, we-we can help you. We can get you and your friends out of here.”_

_Clawdeen felt like she had just had a bucket of ice water dumped on her._

_She froze. Her grip on her tube of lipstick tightened as she stared at the dragon. Her mouth felt dry; she could feel her knees beginning to shake._

_“I…I don’t know…”_

_“I know you’re likely not here by choice,” the dragon said, “Those guys that were with you, t-they your pimps, right? They made you come here, didn’t they, so they could make money out of the rest of the guys screwing you.”_

_Whatever words she was going to say died in Clawdeen’s throat. She swallowed hard and stared at the red skinned girl silently, her posture reminiscent of that of a spooked dear who looked ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger._

_The dragon came up to her until there was only a few inches between them._

_“What’s your name?” she asked._

_“S…Selena,” Clawdeen answered._

_The dragon nodded, giving her a small half-smile. She looked behind them at the door, as if awaiting for someone to suddenly burst in, before she turned back to the werewolf and leaned further in, her voice dropping to a low whisper._

_“I got a picture of their license plates while Brad was talking to them in the kitchen,” she explained, “And I got pics of them getting the money._

_“Just tell me where they plan on taking you when all this is done, and I can have the cops waiting there in five minutes.”_

_Clawdeen gawked at her like she’d just threw up rainbow paint. It took a moment for her to actually process and make sense of the words that she was hearing. When they finally did, she felt her palms go clammy._

_“I…”_

_“Or we could do it now, even!” the dragon said, “You would not believe just how quickly the police come calling when some girl phones in on a college campus. You just say the word, and I can do it!”_

_Clawdeen bristled when she felt her reach for her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. The dragon had a bold look in her eye, her smile more determined._

_“You can trust me, I’ll get you out of here,” she said._

_She said it so matter-of-factly, so sure of herself. The look in her eyes was one of optimism, like she was assured nothing was going to go wrong and that she’d be able to play out the role of local hero she seemed to have chosen for herself._

_All Clawdeen could feel, however, was bone chilling terror._

_It had to be a trick. There was no way this happening; it was too easy, too simple. It had to be a test of some sorts, a challenge from Aran to see if she could truly keep her loyalty. This dragon had to be like the asanbosam, just another one of his bodyguards looking out to make sure no nosy people dug too deep into this business. Yeah, that had to be it. It was just a little test from James and Aran to see if either her, Kimber, or Vixen were going to squeal and run out on them, so they’d know just who to punish tonight._

_But yet, the dragon’s eyes were earnest. They sparkled with a ferocity of someone who would go to hell and back to do what she thought was right, and in spite of trying to tell herself that she knew better, Clawdeen could feel that deep in her heart, she desperately wanted the words to be true._

_She swallowed, her mind a blank as she tried to find the words to reply._

_“Everything’s going to be okay,” the dragon said with confidence, “Trust me.”_

_“I-I have to get some things,” Clawdeen blurted out._

_The reptilian girl just nodded, seemingly taking this excuse for why they couldn’t do it right away instead of at all. “That’s fine,” she said, “Do you know what time you’re supposed to leave?”_

_Clawdeen didn’t know why she answered, “I-I think Dadd-my pimp said no later than midnight.”_

_The dragon nodded, “My friend and I will be waiting near the bushes by that time. When I see the car rev up, I’ll call, okay?”_

_“I-I have to finish my shift,” Clawdeen answered instead._

_She didn’t want to keep having this conversation. She felt isolated, like a cornered rabbit about to find itself in the tight jaws of a hungry rattlesnake. The dragon didn’t know anything about her situation, she didn’t know just how much shit she was putting her into just by the two of them having this conversation, detracting Clawdeen from her duties._

_And the police? For all she knew, they’d make things worse. Aran told her how the laws worked around here, the guys in blue didn’t give two shits about your situation as long as they got an excuse to arrest you. They wouldn’t care that she was underage or doing this against her will, all they’d care about was the fact she was a whore._

_‘That’s all you are to them out here,’ Aran had said, ‘Doesn’t matter if you were robbed or completely beaten within your life, the second they think you’re a junkie or a whore, and they’ll haul your ass in like the catch of the day. As long as they can arrest somebody to have their fun with, they don’t give a single damn whether you’re the victim or the villain.’_

_Who was to say some of those police men weren’t among Aran’s finest customers? If they were, and they got to her, she could only imagine the unspeakable things they’d do to her once they got her alone; Clawdeen felt bile rise in her throat just from the thought._

_The dragon was oblivious to it all. Instead, she nodded solemnly and started making her way to the door. She grabbed the knob and turned._

_“Midnight,” she said, “On the dot. I swear, I’ll help you get out of here.”_

_She opened it and slid herself out, leaving Clawdeen alone once more. Clawdeen stared at the door, the tightness building her throat almost suffocating._

_In her chest, she could feel the urge to run after the dragon and plead with her to get her out of here, away from these disgusting boys, and to give her a phone so she could finally call her parents and give them peace of mind for them all._

_Another part of her wanted to still run after her, but this time to tell the dragon off. This ghoul didn’t know her, who was she to come barging in and acting like she was some hot shit? Clawdeen wasn’t about to be some kind of prop for her to get her ego fed and get her five minutes of fame on the local news._

_In the end, she ended up doing neither._

_Instead, she put her lipstick away and left the bathroom and headed for the back porch._

_Aran was sitting out on the deck with James, a glass of scotch in his hands as he conversed with the weretiger. His back was to her, seemingly unaware of her presence. A few of the boys in the house whistled at her as she passed by, but she ignored them for the time being. James furrowed his brows as he caught sight of her._

_“Uh, Daddy,” Clawdeen said, “Could…c-could I talk to you?”_

_“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Aran asked, raising his glass to take a sip._

_Clawdeen stammered, “I-I am, I will, it’s just I-I heard something that I think you should know.”_

_“Oh?” that finally got his attention and he turned around in his seat. “And what’s that?”_

_Clawdeen didn’t know what on Earth had possessed her to tell him. Some twisted of loyalty? Fear that the girl was just another one of his cronies to see if she still needed to be kept in check?_

_“T-This girl came up to me when I was in the bathroom…” she began._

_She told him everything the dragon had said, all the while trying not to flinch as his and James’ expressions turned dark and menacing and his grip tightened on the glass. When she finished, she looked between the both of them nervously. What if they thought she was lying and just trying to get out of being with the rest of the guys in the house?_

_Aran spared James a glance, before, to her surprise, he suddenly sighed and placed his glass down on the table, before he stood up._

_“Where is this girl now?” he asked._

_Clawdeen shrugged, “I-I don’t know. She just said her and the other girl would be waiting by the bushes when we left. S-S-She said she got a picture of your license plate.”_

_Aran nodded, although she could see the tightness in his jaw as he clenched his teeth in anger. James looked absolutely furious, his fingers opaque white as they gripped his glass so tightly that she thought it’d shatter in his hand. Around them, the rest of the fraternity members bustled about, oblivious to the turn in conversation._

_“What…what should I do?” Clawdeen asked, now unsure if she should’ve told him after all._

_However, Aran’s face was relaxed as he lightly rested his hands on her upper arms._

_“For now, nothing,” he said, “Just go about your business, serve the rest of the people you’re supposed to, and leave the rest to us. If they come up to you again, just don’t say anything, okay?”_

_Clawdeen nodded, although she was a bit confused about his passive attitude. She had expected him to barge into the frat and tear it asunder until he found the two girls. But she wasn’t about to question him._

_James put his own glass down and stood up, making their way past them as she heard him mutter something about ‘having to check up on my bitches now’ before he stepped into the doorway and disappeared around the corner. They watched him go, before Aran guided her inside himself._

_“Go finish up with your clients,” he ordered, “And meet up with me at the time I said when you’re done.”_

_“Yes, Daddy,” Clawdeen responded, turning away as he gave her a small push towards the group of men by the stairs who were eyeing her._

_She put on her best smile and flirted with one of them, before she grasped his hand and allowed him to lead her up the stairs to his dorm. As she got undressed for him, though, her mind was still focused on what Aran and James planned to do once they came across the dragon and the cyborg. They were in a house full of people on a street that housed hundreds of students, so she doubted he was going to beat either of them black and blue like he did her. So what was his plan?_

_Her answer finally came later at midnight, as they regrouped with James and the girls and gathered up their things to leave._

_As they started down the walkway of the house, Clawdeen heard a rustle. She looked up to see the large bushes that adorned the front yard were shaking, like something was moving through them._

_There was a sudden flash of melon-colored hair poking out from behind one of the bushes, before she heard small whispers. Her chest suddenly tightened; the dragon and the cyborg were right there._

_Aran seemed to have heard it too, as he suddenly stopped. Clawdeen, who was holding onto his arm, looked up to see him staring in the direction of the bushes. Her grip tightened as she felt a sliver of fear of what he was planning to do._

_“What is it?” she heard James ask._

_Aran held up his hand to silence him and pointed in the direction of the bushes. Clawdeen watched as the weretiger followed his finger, before his eyes suddenly grew wide with rage._

_He let go of his hold on Kimber, who he’d been pulling along by the arm, and started for the bushes, but Aran stopped him with an arm held out._

_“I’ll handle this,” he said, “You’d scare them off the minute they saw you.”_

_He dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys, pointing them in the direction of his car to unlock before he gestured to Clawdeen._

_“Wait for me in the car,” he said, “I’ll be there in a minute.”_

_Clawdeen obeyed and walked to the Corvette and slid in. However, after she closed the door, she reached over and pulled on the window button, allowing it to open just a crack. She watched James, Vixen, and Kimber pass her, before she looked in the rearview mirror and watched as Aran stared at the bush a moment longer, before he finally stepped off the porch and made his way to it._

_He watched as he stopped at an angle, before he called out, “Well, hello there! What are we doing here tonight?”_

_The bushes rustled again, before Clawdeen observed the dragon step out. The latter looked very different from how she’d been in the bathroom, her posture stiff and rigid. Clawdeen could see the whites of her eyes as she stared warily at Aran._

_“I-I wasn’t-“ she heard the dragon begin to stutter, only for the satyr to cut her off._

_“I heard from a little friend of mine that you had some plans regarding me and my associate,” Aran said, “Something involving calling the cops?”_

_The dragon was silent. Clawdeen felt a pang of guilt as she looked in her direction, shock on her face; presumably from the fact that she’d been tattled on. Clawdeen looked down at her lap, unable to stand the look in the dragon’s eyes._

_“I also heard you may have taken a few personal pictures,” Aran said, “Sounds like you were awfully interested in my license plate, for some reason.”_

_“I wasn’t- Hey!”_

_“Nice phone you got,” she heard Aran say. There was the sound of what seemed to be a brief struggle, before Clawdeen heard him speak up again._

_“’Lyndi Firestone’. Pretty name you got there,” he narrated, “Studies medicine at Georgetown. Originally from Omaulha Beach. Works at Starbucks.”_

_There was a noticeable whimper in the dragon’s voice as she pleaded with him, “P-Please, mister, I didn’t-“_

_“You really should be more careful about what you choose to share on your social media, Lyndi. You’d be surprised at the kinds of things someone can do with just the tiniest bit of personal information._

_“Say perhaps, someone coming in and tracking you down in the middle of class, or on your shift to maybe take you to a new place. An unknown place where no one will ever find you.”_

_Clawdeen’s hands clenched in the fabric of dress as she heard the dragon snivel pitifully. She flinched as the latter suddenly let out a small cry, looking up into the rearview mirror to see that Aran had grabbed the dragon by the wrists and had shoved her back against the small wall that framed the garden._

_“Maybe I’ll make you one of my new girls,” she heard Aran mutter as he leaned in close to the dragon, their noses almost touching, “I’m sure my bitch will enjoy a roommate. She’s been getting pretty lonely, being all by herself.”_

_The dragon was starting to sob now. Clawdeen hunched her shoulders up and retreated further into her seat as shame and guilt started to fill her chest._

_Because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, she may have just damned the dragon to suffer the same fate she had._

_Forcing herself to look back into the mirror, she sucked in a breath as she watched Aran adjust his grip so that he held both of the dragon’s wrists in one hand, before he reached down and lightly cupped her breast through her shirt._

_“Your skin is nice and soft,” she heard him mutter, “Yeah, you’d a good addition to my collection.”_

_The dragon was shaking. She sniffled, “Why are you doing this?”_

_“Why?” Aran repeated._

_Even from the safety of the car, Clawdeen felt her ears lower in fear as his pale blue eyes suddenly turned murderous; she watched him release the dragon, only to shove her back against the wall a second time, this time with his hands digging tightly into her shoulders._

_“Because I don’t like it when nosy fucking people decide that they want to try and snoop around in my business,” he snarled, “Especially dumb little redheaded bitches who want to be tattletales.”_

_The dragon shut her eyes as she blubbered helplessly. Clawdeen glanced between them nervously, fearing for the dragon’s safety and whatever Aran considered doing next._

_Luckily, the satyr finally let her go, leaving the poor girl to slide down against the wall onto her knees, where she hugged herself. Her nails dug into her sleeves and her shoulders shook violently._

_“I’m going to keeping an eye on you for a while,” Aran said, “Make sure you and that robotic bitch don’t go running your fucking mouths._

_“If you say anything- fucking **anything** \- about this, I’m coming for you. Remember that.” _

_With that, he turned and walked towards Clawdeen and the car, leaving the dragon to cry on the ground. Clawdeen kept her eyes on her as he got in on the driver’s side and started it up, before he and James finally pulled out of the driveway and started making their way down the street._

_The image of the dragon on her knees and crying burned at the forefront of Clawdeen’s mind. Internally, she was screaming at herself. ‘Well, I hope it was worth it,’ she mockingly scolded._

_The dragon had tried to help her, and Clawdeen ratted her out. And now, the poor girl was on Aran’s hit-list and was going to have her every move watched. If Aran decided she’d gone too far, there was now the risk she was going to end up like her and the other girls._

_She gave her a kindness and Clawdeen threw it right back in her face._

_A perfect example of why she deserved everything that had come her way, the werewolf thought about herself bitterly. That’s why she was here; she wouldn’t know a helping hand from a hellhound if it bit her right in the ass. She was stupid when she tried to escape and now she was stupid again, and this time she put someone’s own wellbeing on the line as well._

_“You seem angry,” Aran said, “Something on your mind?”_

_Clawdeen hunched up; she must’ve been scowling without realizing it. Shyly, she responded, “N-No, just, um, tired, that’s all.”_

_“You’re thinking about the girl at the frat, aren’t you?” he questioned._

_It was frightening how well he managed to read her. it was almost enough to get Clawdeen to start thinking he had casted a spell or had some sort of magic that allowed him to read her thoughts._

_“You shouldn’t feel bad about telling,” Aran said, “You did the right thing by telling me. If her and her friend did what they said they were going to do, they could get us in a lot of trouble, Selena.”_

_“I know,” Clawdeen mumbled._

_“If you ask me, I don’t think she even gave a rat’s ass about actually helping you,” he added, “If anything, she was only doing it for the clout. You know, so she could have her big shining moment as the great heroine who saved the poor little hookers.”_

_Clawdeen nodded silently. Aran continued on._

_“I mean, you’d think she call the police to at least check up on the scene the minute she thought something shady was going on,” he pointed out, “Hell, why would she even let anything happen? Why didn’t she call the police the minute she saw that her fellow frat brothers were engaging in less than illegal activities? Especially with someone who looks as young as you._

_“That is, unless **she** was doing something shady herself,” he suggested, “Maybe that’s why she didn’t just flat out call. She can’t just get them over without ratting herself out. The pressure got too much for her and you were her little bargaining chip; that way, when they hauled her ass in, she’d have some leverage to at least lighten her sentence or whatever punishment she was going to face.” _

_That made Clawdeen frown. She mulled over his words and the dragon’s behavior from earlier. It didn’t seem likely- there were no way they could even know if she was even part of the frat or if she’d just been invited by one of the boys who lived there._

_However, with her own initial doubts and feelings of just being exploited made Clawdeen hesitant to just shoot his argument down. She had to admit, Aran had a point; why would someone who could clearly see what kind of ‘job’ Clawdeen was performing wait until they left to act? Why not do it when they were still there and could be caught in the act, when none of the other guys were noticing._

_Hell, she could’ve still even remained anonymous when doing so, she realized; the dragon could’ve easily left early and called on her cell once she was away, or gone to another person’s house and then confessed to what was going on the frat without anyone ever knowing what she was up to._

_But she didn’t do that. Instead, she made the effort of talking to Clawdeen. Like she wanted the werewolf to see her face, so she’d knew who did the “saving” that day, even though them talking wasted what could’ve been precious times._

_She could feel something akin to frustration starting to build in her chest. Disgust, even. Slowly, as Aran’s claim sunk in, she realized she was starting to believe him._

_Was that all the dragon saw her for? Someone who could help get her off the hook for whatever mess she’d gone herself into?_

_Of course, Clawdeen told herself. She should’ve known better; by now, it was clear nobody was ever in it for some moral bullshit. They all had their own gains to get out of something._

_“She was stupid for getting involved,” she finally muttered, though it was hard to tell if she was addressing Aran directly or just talking to herself, “She should’ve just kept on with her night like she didn’t see anything.”_

_Keeping her gaze ahead, she didn’t notice the way Aran took his eyes off the road to look at her, a malicious smile coming onto his features as he observed the werewolf’s bitter expression. It was one that carried a hint of pride, like he enjoyed hearing what she was saying; he had managed to get her right where he wanted her._

_“Yeah,” he said, “She really is.”_

_The rest of the drive to the complex was silent, neither making any mention of the dragon for the rest of the night._

* * *

 

_“You know, I’ve been doing some thinking lately,” Aran said as he sat down on the couch, “How would you like to go out for a night?”_

_Clawdeen looked up in surprise. She’d been sitting across from him on the floor in front of the coffee table, quietly eating a breakfast burger in her hands and several. Several wrappers lay strewn on the surface, evident of the morning meal he’d brought for her, their contents having been consumed._

_Covering her mouth as she chewed, she quickly swallowed and answered, “A night out? Like, with a client?”_

_Aran smiled, “No, silly. Like a night out on the town, just the two of us. You know, get some dinner, see the city. What do you say?”_

_Clawdeen’s eyes widened._

_If she didn’t know better, she could’ve sworn he was asking her out on a date. For a moment, she grew defensive that it was some kind of trick- what if a ‘night out’ was code for something like ‘getting your ass beat by some dominatrix in a dark room because you talked back’, or just another big showcase in some even skeevier part of town?_

_And yet, nothing in Aran’s posture indicated that there was anything else to the proposition. He sat on the couch, his arms thrown over its back in a relaxed position and a soft grin on his face as he looked down at her. He actually seemed almost excited for her answer, which confused the werewolf greatly._

_“Why?” was all she could think of to say._

_‘Smooth, Clawdeen,’ she scolded herself._

_However, Aran didn’t seem to take any offense to it. He shrugged and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he allowed his hands to hang between his knees._

_“Well, I just thought it’d be nice,” he said, “You’ve been doing great with the clients, so I thought you deserved a bit of a break._

_“Plus,” he said, “I thought you’d want to celebrate your first year here with something special.”_

_Clawdeen paused. The gravity of the statement sunk in, and she felt herself grow slightly forlorn._

_It really had been a year, hadn’t it?_

_One whole year of her being chaperoned around and given to strange men in the random hours of the day and night to attend to their intimate needs, whether it was in their beds or the waiting area of an office building. One year since Aran had come into her life and remade her into his ideal whore, one harsh beating after another._

_She probably should’ve been more upset over this fact, but Clawdeen found that she couldn’t muster up much anger or despair. For the most part, she just felt empty and apathetic._

_Aran didn’t seem to take notice of her solemn body language, instead leaning forward and gesturing with his hands as he added, “Hell, we could even make it a multi-occasion thing. Celebrate all the stuff that’s passed that we didn’t get to do together, like the holidays. Or your birthday, if you want.”_

_“M-My birthday’s not until the end of next month, though,” Clawdeen stated._

_It was weird, saying it out loud, but it was true. She was going to be eighteen in a few weeks’ time._

_She had turned seventeen only a little while after she’d been moved up here and taken into Aran’s hands. Everything had been so stressful and frantic and passed by in such a blur, however, that by the time she finally realized what day it had been, they were already well into May._

_Not like she had any plans of celebration, she thought bitterly. Instead of parties and gifts and cake, her seventeenth birthday had been spent with her sucking off random men behind a truck stop and getting fucked in the private suites of businessmen in hotels._

_Such had been the case on Christmas. And New Year’s. And every special occasion she could remember. Soon enough, they had all blended together to just any other day, only on those days there was a lot less people out._

_“Well, that makes it even better, then!” Aran exclaimed, “Nothing wrong with starting a little early. And we could consider it a makeup for last year._

_“Now, what do you say?” he questioned._

_It sounded like a simple friendly inquiry, but there was a look in his eyes that let Clawdeen know that he wouldn’t take no as an answer._

_She gave him a soft smile, “That…I’d be delighted to, Daddy.”_

_Aran grinned and got up off the couch. “Great. Then I’ll be back by around seven to pick you up, and the rest of the night will be ours. Put on your best dress, your favorite heels- just as long as they don’t look too trashy, and we’ll be on our way.”_

_His eyes twinkled. “I’ll make sure it’s quite the evening,” he said._

_Nodding silently, Clawdeen watched as he left soon after, wondering about his plans._

_It wouldn’t necessarily be the first time Aran had done something like this, she thought. Over time, he had started giving her little gifts for her work, rewards for meeting her quota every day, or bringing in a big tip, or simply because he’d been in a good mood and she had managed to keep from pissing him off for a whole week. They were expensive gifts, too; now, Clawdeen’s little pile of personal belongings had grown to include expensive jewelry, designer shoes, new clothes- the best bougie things that only the best money could buy._

_They were beautiful, and admittedly, though it made her hate herself a little bit more, Clawdeen delighted in their lavishness. She tried to justify it as a means of being proud of herself, feeling like their presence was a sign that she had worked hard and very much deserved them._

_To go on a “date” with Aran, though, with just the two of them and no clients involved, was a whole new thing, though, and she wasn’t sure if she should look forward to this night._

_Later that night, sure enough, at seven on the dot she heard Aran’s car drive up to the complex. Putting the finishing touches on her makeup and hair, Clawdeen could hear him enter and close the door._

_“Selena?” he called._

_“In here, Daddy,” she responded, zipping up her makeup bag and placing it on the counter. She turned off the light and entered the hallway, stopping as she got to the entrance of the living room._

_Her eyes widened as she took in Aran’s appearance._

_“You look…nice, Daddy,” she commented._

_And admittedly, he did, his outfit consisting of a royal blue button up, over which he wore a steel grey sports coat, and khaki pants. His hair was pulled into a small ponytail, which brought his bangs out of his eyes and made them look even brighter. Unable to help herself, Clawdeen blushed as she found herself admiring him._

_Aran smiled softly, “Well, thank you, Selena. You look quite beautiful yourself.”_

_That made her blush deepen. She looked down at her clothes, glad to know that he was satisfied with her choice: Trying her best to think of what he would like, she had picked out a rose gold spaghetti strapped dress, thinking the color could help highlight her skin. To go alongside it, she had chosen stilettos for shoes and a three rowed diamond choker and drop earrings as accessories. She’d also straightened her hair and put it in a braid that fell over her shoulder. Something simple, without being too plain or gaudy._

_Slowly, she replied, “T-Thank you, Daddy.”_

_Tilting his head towards the door, he grabbed the handle and held it open. “Shall we?” he asked._

_Clawdeen gathered her purse and her coat, before they made their way down the stairs together, his hand lightly resting on her lower back. They got into his car and he drove them from the complex. After a short while on the road, they came onto a street filled with various restaurants and stores on either side, the sidewalks filled with pedestrians set on exploring the night life. Neon signs showcased cocktail deals and available beers in bars, while there was the dulled, steady thump of a bass pounding from inside clubs. Multicolored strobe lights flashed from the inside of the windows._

_Aran pulled into a nearby parking area near a fast-food restaurant. He put on the parking break, before he turned to Clawdeen. His face was serious and he stared deeply into her eyes._

_“We’re going to go to dinner now,” he said in a low voice, “If you even think of trying anything, I’ll have every bone in your right hand broken.”_

_Clawdeen stared back, replying, “I won’t.”_

_Nodding, Aran opened his door and they exited._

_As they walked to the restaurant, Clawdeen wrapped both her arms around his left one and leaned into his side, trying to create an image of affection to others who saw them. Aran likewise slid one hand over her hip, keeping her close to him._

_The aroma of garlic bread and marinara sauce wafted under Clawdeen’s nostrils, the warm bright lights of an Italian restaurant greeting them as they walked up the steps. From the windows, she could see several dozen other patrons seated at covered tables, all dressed in various degrees of formal wear._

_“Welcome!” the woman at the front desk greeted, “Table for two?”_

_“Absolutely!” Aran replied, a big smile on his face._

_They were led to a small table positioned right in the middle of the dining room. Clawdeen paused as she was handed a menu. What was she supposed to order? Everything looked expensive, she wasn’t sure if Aran would want her to get anything that was too much money._

_As if reading her mind, he glanced up from his own menu to give her a look._

_“You can get anything you want,” he said, “Nothing’s off limits.”_

_“Are you sure?” Clawdeen asked in a small voice._

_He nodded and smiled at her. “Go ahead, get whatever your heart is set on. It’s my treat.”_

_She would’ve objected further, but the steady rumble in her stomach that came as she took in the smells of others’ meals and observed all the available choices made it too good to resist his offer. Clawdeen’s eyes scanned the menu, her mouth watering as she looked at the options. Mozzarella sticks, spaghetti, minestrone, linguini, alfredo- everything looked so good that she was party tempted to order everything on the menu._

_“Have you two decided what you want to have, or do we need a little more time?” the waitress asked as she stopped in front of the table, a notepad and pen in her hands._

_At Aran’s nod of assurance, Clawdeen looked up at her and answered, “Um, I’ll have the steak with the baked potato and grilled onions. Rare, please.”_

_“I’ll have the spicy shrimp scampi fritta,” Aran said, “And could we get a bottle of merlot, please?”_

_“Merlot, right away,” the waitress answered, writing down their orders, before she collected their menus and left. Clawdeen watched her go, before she turned back to him._

_“I-I’m underage, though,” she said._

_“They don’t know that,” Aran refuted, “For all they know, we’re just a regular adult couple out on a date. Nobody’s gonna know._

_“Besides,” he added, “Don’t act like you’re a complete virgin to alcohol. You definitely had your fair share of cocktails at parties, have you not?”_

_Clawdeen nodded, although she didn’t think the two situations were really comparable. Sure, she’d gotten tipsy once or twice at a few of Cleo’s house parties and her and Laura had snuck sips from her dad’s liquor cabinet, but this was getting served right in public where people could see her. Plus, it was wine, which was nothing like the shots of tequila or cheap beer she’d tasted before._

_After a short while, the waitress came back with their food. Another server followed behind her, carrying a bottle of red wine._

_“You look on edge,” Aran commented as he left, “Relax a little. Didn’t I say I was going to treat you to a nice evening?”_

_“Sorry,” Clawdeen said, fiddling with her napkin, “It’s just…weird, being so around so many people after so long.”_

_“I’m sure it’s overwhelming, but that’s why we’re here. To be able to de-stress from the long week and celebrate.”_

_A small surge went through Clawdeen as his hand landed on hers, his thumb lightly stroking her knuckles. He quickly pulled back and picked up his wine glass, holding it out to her._

_“Anyway, let’s not think about that stuff tonight and just focus on the good things,” he said, “To us.”_

_Clawdeen picked up her glass and clinked it with his. “To…to us.”_

_They each took a sip- Clawdeen grimaced slightly at the wine’s tart taste and strong smell- before they set them down and began eating. Clawdeen slowly cut into her steak and took a bite with her fork._

_Her chewing suddenly stopped as her eyes widened. She began to smile, her stomach rumbling with delight; maybe she was overreacting a little, but she reveled in the taste. It had been so long since she had had steak. She quickly swallowed and took another bite, letting out a small giggle of delight before taking a bite of her baked potato._

_“Good?” Aran asked in amusement._

_She nodded, eagerly cutting off more pieces and quickly stuffing them in her mouth. She could hear him chuckle as he took a bite of his pasta._

_“Well, make sure you leave at least a little room for dessert,” he joked, taking another sip of his wine._

_It was nothing more than dinner, but soon enough, Clawdeen felt like she’d just been served like a queen; along with her steak, Aran went ahead and ordered them mozzarella sticks and a thing of breadsticks, both of which she’d finished off more than half the plate. They shared a piece of chocolate cheesecake and she ended up drinking her glass of wine, as well as another two. By the time Aran paid the check and they left the restaurant, a pleasant buzz had fallen over her._

_“Whoa there,” Aran jokingly cautioned as she stumbled slightly, catching her by the arm, “Careful. Don’t want to trip and break your ankle.”_

_Clawdeen giggled, “Sorry. Clumsy me.”_

_She knew she was probably looking a little foolish, with her cheeks flushed bright red and her stumbling like a baby horse, but with the light veil of alcohol slightly clouding her judgment, she couldn’t really find it in her to care at the moment._

_“Well, you certainly look like you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Aran said with mirth, “I think we should get you back before you get a little too rowdy.”_

_“Aw, come on!” Clawdeen drunkily protested, “Can’t we walk a little longer? I’wanna see the park!”_

_Aran shook his head, “No, come on. We have to get going. I got to work in the morning, so we can’t be out too late.”_

_That earned him a pout, but Clawdeen begrudgingly let him tug her along back along the path they’d came from towards the lot._

_Back at the apartment complex, Aran shut the door behind them as she stumbled in in front of him. Clawdeen put her purse on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, propping her cheek up against her elbow on the arm rest to rest her eyes. She could feel the fatigue that usually came with too much alcohol starting to settle on her as her eyelids grew heavy._

_She heard Aran come around in front of her and sit down beside her. His hand came up and lightly began stroking her upper arm._

_“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked._

_Clawdeen nodded lazily, her face pressing further into her cheek as she began to doze off._

_His arm slid around her back and he pulled her into his side, his hand coming to rest on her hip just under her elbow. Clawdeen leaned against his upper arm, settling comfortably into his embrace._

_“You see what happens when you’re good?” Aran questioned, “Wouldn’t you like to have more nights like these, just the two of us relaxing after a stressful week without work getting in the way?”_

_“Yeah,” Clawdeen answered, “Thank you, Daddy.”_

_She smiled as she felt him turn and press a small kiss into her hair. For a moment, they sat there in the silence of the living room, Aran’s hand lightly stroking the skin of her elbow as she rested._

_“You’re so beautiful, Selena,” he suddenly commented._

_She felt him fiddle with a lock of her hair. Clawdeen thought nothing of it, cooing at the small touch._

_She suddenly froze, however, as she felt his knuckles stroke her lips. Her eyes shot open as she felt herself sober up very quickly._

_“So lovely, so soft,” he said lowly, his index finger lightly tracing Clawdeen’s bottom lip._

_He sat up and adjusted their position, so that now she was sitting in front of him between his legs, her back to his chest as she sat rigid, her gaze glued to the front of the room._

_His fingertips began to trace light circles at her elbows. Clawdeen stiffened as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, before he began planting a trail down her neck._

_She resisted the urge to moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, whimpering as he began to descend down her shoulder. “D-D-Daddy, w-wait, s-s-stop…”_

_“Shhh,” Aran responded in a hushed tone, “Just relax. Pretend I’m your boyfriend.”_

_His hands slid up under her arms and grasped her breasts through her dress. Clawdeen sniffled, squirming as his ministrations waves of heat down to her stomach. Her hands hovered awkwardly in front of her, as if unsure if she should try to push his hands away._

_“Ah!”_

_She cried out as one of his hands went under her dress and pressed at the apex between her thighs. He began to caress her through her undergarments, tracing around her clitoris and labia, before her pulled the fabric aside and penetrated her with two of his fingers._

_“Daddy!” Clawdeen exclaimed, “S-stop-“_

_Aran cut her off with a forceful kiss. Her brows knitted together as he pressed his tongue against hers, overwhelmed by everything happening at once. Heat radiated out from her abdomen and down her body from where he touched her, while something coiled tightly in her stomach. Various erogenous zones on her neck and shoulder still pulsed from the feeling of his kisses, making everything extra sensitive and hot and stuffy._

_Yet, none of it was unpleasant._

_It all felt…good. Fantastic, even._

_Clawdeen couldn’t fight it; her body yearned for the pleasant touches that were a sweet escape from its daily abuse._

_Before she could even comprehend it, she was kissing him back._

_They both moaned as she deepened it, the feel of their tongues twirling together causing bolts of electricity to shoot through them. Clawdeen groaned softly as he continued to touch her and rolled her hips forward, pressing against his hand to gain friction from his movements. Aran smiled against her mouth and pulled away to observe the werewolf’s expression, noting the way her eyes screwed shut and how her mouth formed an o-shape as she reveled in the pleasure he gave her._

_“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he mumbled as he swirled his fingers around, grinning as the movement earned him a sharp cry._

_“Y-Yes!” Clawdeen exclaimed, “A-Aah! Ah!”_

_He gave her another brisk kiss, before he pulled away and sat back, reaching for back of her dress._

_Clawdeen’s breath hitched as he tugged down the zipper, loosening the dress’ fit around her. He slid down the other strap and left it to bunch around her waist, before he started kneading her breasts again. She cooed and leaned back against him as he gently pinched her nipples until they hardened. Aran swept her up in another kiss, which she returned desperately._

_Heat bloomed in her center. She could feel her underwear grow damp as her arousal flared. A low whine escaped her as his hand slipped back down to rub her. Aran shifted his position, and she gave no resistance as he laid her down on the couch._

_She mewled and stretched out as he worked his fingers harder, gasping as he pressed against one spot that made lights flashed behind her eyes for a second._

_“You’re so wet,” Aran commented as he crawled on top of her, watching as her chest heaved, “You want my tongue to be there, don’t you, kissing all your sweet spots, tracing your little clit?”_

_Clawdeen didn’t respond. Her mind was nearly a blank, the overwhelming desire that filled every inch of her body bringing her nerves alive. Her muscles contracted almost painfully as she felt herself get pushed further and further to the edge, further clouding her judgment and her doubts._

_Peering up at Aran through half-lidded eyes, she let out a shaky breath as she slowly reached up, her hands hovering just an inch from his chest, unsure if to continue or not._

_“You can touch me, too, if you want,” Aran said assuredly, straddling her as he leaned back on his knees and started unbuttoning his shirt._

_Lust made Clawdeen’s stomach churn as she watched him undo all the buttons and slid his shirt off, exposing his bare chest and arms. She bit her lip in desire at the sight of his muscles, which made her body tingle. Aran reached for her hands and brought them up to his abs, allowing her to shamelessly stroke them and his arms, relishing the feeling of the taught, bare skin under her palms._

_Her mind was too clouded with pleasure to comprehend what she was doing. All she could focus on was how good she felt and how she wanted more. Needed more._

_Aran grabbed her wrist and trailed her hand down so that she was touching his groin. Clawdeen swallowed, feeling how he was through his jeans._

_“Look at you, all hot for your daddy,” he said._

_“D-D-Daddy…” Clawdeen murmured._

_“Daddy’s gonna take care of you, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna make you feel all nice and good,” he responded._

_He slid his arms under her back and picked her off the couch. Clawdeen wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to carry her over to the mattress and lay her down._

_She didn’t try to fight him; right now, the fog that had overtaken her had blocked out any other thoughts, replacing them with just the knowledge that she was close- oh, so painfully close- to ecstasy, and he could give to her. All she could focus on was the flowers of heat that steadily bloomed inside of her and how she desperately needed release._

_It was that need for release that made her help as he removed her clothes and left her body exposed to him, that made her mewl and groan as he touched her more, that- as he finally entered her and claimed her once more- made her moan his name and beg him in small little whispers to give her more. Aran was all too willing to comply, increasing the force and speed as he reveled in the body of the werewolf under him._

_“Ah, ah, ah-“_

_Something finally snapped inside her, and everything went white for a moment. Clawdeen let out a long, loud cry as she climaxed. Her body sang as every nerve came alive, like a cadaver having been awakened by a new surge of electricity. Through the haze, she heard Aran grunt, before she could feel him orgasm a few seconds later._

_The room suddenly felt too hot as they lay there, panting and sweating as they steadily came down from their highs. Clawdeen gasped for breath; her limbs suddenly felt heavy, like she’d been running a marathon._

_She felt Aran smooth back her hair, before he rolled off her sat up._

_“I always knew you wanted it,” he said._

_Slowly, Clawdeen opened her eyes. She stared up at the ceiling as the last remnants of her release finally floated away._

_The weight of what had just occurred settled over her._

_Her eyes widened in horror._

_Aran shook his head as he stared out into the living room. “Just imagine what your family would think if they saw you now.”_

_That made her hands clench into the sheets. Clawdeen stared at him, her breathing noticeably now shallow. He didn’t pay her any mind, though, instead he just got up and redressed and made his way to the door._

_Just before he stepped out, he nodded at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Selena.”_

_The sound of the lock turning seemed amplified in the silence of the room._

_Clawdeen sat up on the mattress, grabbing the sheet to hold against her as she glared down at her body. She brought her knees up to her chest and held the sheet tighter. Bile filled in her throat and tears came to her eyes._

_She had…she had had sex with Aran. Willingly._

_She encouraged it, welcomed it. She actually had derived pleasure from him, of her own will._

_The man who had beaten her on a daily basis, who continuously forced himself upon her and sold her to others…and she had been intimate with him. This time, there were no drugs to blame, no force or threats of violence._

_She had willingly given into him._

_Clawdeen held a hand to her mouth. Tears started to stream down her cheeks._

_Oh god…_

_What had she done?_

_Aran’s words echoed in her mind._

_‘If only your family could see you now.’_

_Clawdeen bristled._

_It felt like she had just been punched in the stomach._

_He had been attempting to use her, and like a dumb whore, she’d given into him. She had derived pleasure from the person who’d used her in the sickest ways._

_She…she really was worthless._

_She didn’t even bother washing or redressing. A sob ripped from her throat, muffled by her hand as Clawdeen felt back on the mattress on her side, where she curled into a little ball._

_There, under the dimming light of the living room, the only sounds to come were her sobs as she cried herself to sleep._

* * *

 

_“Ah, she’s arrived,” Shelby announced as Clawdeen walked up to the corner, “The others were starting to think Aran had had you transferred, they haven’t seen you that much.”_

_“Sorry,” Clawdeen replied tonelessly._

_She wasn’t quite paying attention, nor was she really in the mood for conversation, especially with Shelby of all people. Since this morning, her mind had been occupied with the previous night’s events. The feeling of Aran’s hands on her skin still lingered, even after she had washed herself three times, and the memory of what she’d done- the noises she had made, how she had so easily given into him- caused a sour taste to linger on her tongue, like at any moment she’d puke._

_Plus, with Shelby being the only girl here today so far- presumably, the rest of them were out with clients- Clawdeen felt she didn’t need her mood further worsened by the former’s remarks._

_For whatever reason, it seemed that the sea monster had become immediately set on disliking her, and never hesitated to get a snarky remark the minute Clawdeen opened her mouth or roll her eyes at whatever little action she committed. It was honestly starting to grate on the werewolf’s nerves._

_The feeling of being watched distracted her from her melancholy. She turned to see Shelby watching her._

_“What?” Clawdeen snapped._

_“Gee, what stick got shoved up your ass?” Shelby replied, “I was just noticing you looked a little rough around the edges. Bad night?”_

_‘Why do you care?’ Clawdeen wanted to reply, but as she opened her mouth snap, she found she couldn’t muster up the energy to be angry. The shame over last night left her feeling defeated and drained of energy, and she wasn’t in the mood to get into a screaming match with the sea monster._

_“You could say that,” she finally responded. She thought for a moment, before for whatever reason, she decided to add, “Aran…took me out last night.”_

_Shelby looked at her out of her peripheral, but didn’t respond._

_“Afterwards, when…when we got back…”_

_Clawdeen trailed off. She grabbed her wrist, her claws digging into her skin as she struggled to voice what happened next. Ignominy burned deep inside her like a hot coal; she felt a lump form in her throat. Soon, she found herself on the verge of crying again._

_“What? He beat you?” Shelby asked._

_Clawdeen shook her head. Her gaze dropped to the ground._

_“No,” she said thickly, “He…he wanted to…w-we had sex.”_

_The words were like dirt in her mouth as she confessed. She hung her head low, a new feeling of being dirty settling upon her. She tried not to cry- she couldn’t afford to smear her makeup in case any guys showed up right then- but it was a struggle to hold it all together._

_“Like, did it hurt really bad or something?”_

_“N-No,” she admitted, her face going red with embarrassment, “I…He touched me and…a-a-and…and I liked it…”_

_She felt revolted as she said it. The urge to fall to her knees and vomit her guts out became stronger, as did the urge to scratch her skin off until there was nothing but muscle and bone._

_Shelby didn’t reply at first. When she did, though, her words caught Clawdeen off guard._

_“And…that’s a bad thing…why?”_

_Clawdeen looked up in surprise. Shelby stared at her with a grimace, like she found the werewolf weird or alien._

_“W-What?”_

_“What? So you did it and he got you off, and?” Shelby questioned, “From the way you’re acting, you’d think he just stabbed you in the tit or something.”_

_Clawdeen’s face burned. Maybe it didn’t seem like a big deal to her, but it **was** a big deal. It was a big deal because it showed just how pathetic she’d become- because she should’ve fought, she should’ve kept refusing, she shouldn’t have enjoyed it in the first place. _

_Because there was a part of her that wanted him to do it to her again. Because it showed that she was sick and disgusting._

_She heard Shelby sigh; it was a loud and tired one, like she was annoyed. A small little ‘oh, jesus’ came from under her breath. Clawdeen glared at her._

_“What’s your problem?” she asked._

_“Nothing, it’s just it’s tiring seeing everyone here sulk whenever they feel bad about the stupidest things,” Shelby snapped, “You, Ruby, Kimber, you all do the same thing. You do something that makes you feel good about yourself, and then later on when you think it’s not something you should feel good about after all, you get all doom and gloom like someone just fucking died. So what, you had a fucking orgasm by your pimp, congratulations. You wouldn’t be the first one.”_

_Clawdeen whirled around at her, her eyes lighting up with anger. “You wouldn’t-“_

_“What? I wouldn’t understand? You think you’re the only one who’s been fooled by their little mind games before?” Shelby retorted._

_Clawdeen fell silent. She closed her mouth and turned away from the sea monster; she didn’t want to have this conversation any longer._

_After a second, Shelby spoke up again, “Look, I know it’s…hard, embracing it all because it’s, well, Aran and all of them. But…you got to learn to take the little things as you can. I mean, better that he makes you cum then makes you bleed, isn’t it?”_

_“I…I guess,” Clawdeen admitted. Her face burned at the crude language._

_Shelby nodded, “No use in feeling bad about it now, if it’s already happened. Just…fuck, just fucking stop crying for once, please? I don’t need the mood brought down further because you want to get hung up on morals and shit.”_

_Clawdeen nodded. She mulled over her words. Although the sea monster had a point, it was still hard for her to accept that she’d had gotten to this point. She had to have some fight remaining in her, didn’t she? Wasn’t there at least a small part of her that still retained some self-respect, that wasn’t willing to stoop all the way to their level just to get off easy?_

_The answer was no, she thought bitterly. How could she, in a place like this? There was nothing left to respect; she’d been spit on, bitten, scratched, and it was impossible to keep track of the number of men- both online and in person- who’d seen her naked and perform various degrading sex acts. She had beaten for the smallest infractions and been called every name in the book. She had tried to escape, only to get caught within the first hour of being gone and she had tattoos that pretty much projected her as being some trashy bitch of the streets._

_Self-respect meant nothing in this place. Not anymore._

_All that mattered was that she’d keep her master happy and meet her quota and try not to be too much in anyone’s way._

_Clawdeen frowned. As much as she hated it, the more she mulled over Shelby’s words, the more sense they made. She could feel sorry for herself all she wanted over enjoying her time with Aran, but whatever outlet did she have? It was either do that or just have him beating the shit out of her every day…although, she couldn’t tell which one was worse; at least when he beat her, she knew it was supposed to feel bad._

_It was all so confusing, her head started to hurt thinking about it._

_A feeling of resignation came over her. She gave a small sigh and looked out onto the street, patiently awaiting for the nearest car to drive up._

_Shelby was right. There wasn’t anything she could do about it. Better to just embrace the nice moments- Fenrir knew they were few and far between._

_She would continue to play by their rules. She’d be Daddy’s best girl and reap the rewards, while taking the punishments whenever they came by._

_And if the end of all of this ever came, hopefully she’d have at least a little bit of sanity left._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this...was way, WAY longer than I was expecting it to be. The good news, though, is that this should wrap up the main sequence of flashbacks, so if you're starting to tire of most of the chapters being in italics, starting next chapter we will be staying in the present day. Chapters should also be much shorter than they have been, so if length has also been an issue for you, that will hopefully be resolved moving forward.


	10. Chapter 9: New Blood

“I’ll make you a deal: five hundred a night, an extra fifty on the last day for compensation, and a free night with her.”

“Is that last part supposed to be generous? Six hundred fifty per night or no deal.”

“Oh come on, that’s way too high a demand, even for you!”

“You’re asking me to take care of Nagan’s bitch- _Nagan_ , of all people- for a whole three weeks because his ass got busted. That means double the money I have to spend and double the time I have to waste to make sure she’s getting her shit done. That’s final, Champy. Take it or else I’m out.”

There was a long sigh from the other party. From behind the door, there was the sound of a chair scraping, like someone was getting up and starting pace back and forth.

Clawdeen and Ruby sat on the floor near the bed in the other room, a bag of Mexican food between them. Clawdeen groaned in delight as she bit into her burrito. She’d gone without food the whole day and her stomach felt like it was about to start eating itself.

“Are there any tacos left?” Ruby asked through a mouthful of chips, her mouth and fingers messy with cheese and meat from the nacho platter. Clawdeen reached into the bag and felt around, pulling out a wrapped item in the shape of a half-circle.

“There’s one,” she replied.

“Can I have it?”

She nodded and handed it to Ruby, who proceeded to nearly scarf it down. With her mouth full, she gave Clawdeen a grateful look. “So good,” she said, the words a bit muffled from the food.

Clawdeen nodded and took a sip of water, “I’d never thought I’d be more grateful to have stale chips and dollar store hot sauce.”

Ruby replied, “I know. Grady keeps putting off buying groceries, so we’ve had to stretch out the rest of our pantry in order to last us. You don’t realize how quickly you can have too much of something until you have nothing but canned ravioli and peanut butter sandwiches to eat for three days in a row.”

That got her a small smile from Clawdeen. They continued to eat in silence; it’d been a hectic day for both of them, so as of know the two of them were glad to just be off their feet and finally have a break.

Over in the other room, where Grady and Aran had been conversing with a third guy neither of them knew, Clawdeen heard the latter mumble under his breath.

“This is some bullshit,” he said, “Just made bank two days ago and now I gotta lose most of it just so you can keep up your deal.”

“If you have a problem with it, take it up with Nagan,” Grady replied.

Looking over her shoulder, Clawdeen shot a look towards the door. It was open just a crack, allowing her catch sight of where Aran sat at the table in the suite’s living area. A green arm- Grady’s- reached in front of him, before pulling back with a stack of bills in its hand.

She’d only been able to catch fractions of their conversation, but from what she’d gathered, they were discussing Aran or Grady keeping “watch” over someone. A new girl coming in, perhaps? Or some sort of trade?

Her heart skipped a beat at that thought. What if Aran was talking about giving her away to someone else? He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? Not after everything they’d gone through. But she didn’t want the other girls to be given away either. It wasn’t exactly paradise here, but she knew there were other places that would make suicide preferable to being with another guy.

Slowly, she asked Ruby, “What do you think they’re talking about?”

Ruby paused. Clawdeen watched her shoot a quick, fearful glance at the door. When she seemed assured the men wouldn’t be listening in on them, she leaned in towards Clawdeen and began to whisper.

“I think that guy who’s with them wants them to take in this one girl,” she whispered, “I heard Grady on the phone earlier. Apparently, her pimp’s caught a case so she’s going to be on her own for a while until they can bail him out.”

“You mean, like they’re buying her?” Clawdeen asked.

Strangely, she felt herself grow a bit defensive at the thought; almost jealous, even. Did Aran suddenly think she wasn’t good enough to do this on her own? Hadn’t he said for the past five years she was his best special girl? What had changed?

However, Ruby shook her head. “Not like that. It’s more of a temporary thing- that guy’s asking them to keep watch on her until her pimp’s out of jail. You know, kind of like babysitting her.”

Clawdeen raised a brow. “They can do that?”

Ruby shrugged, “I’ve never seen it happen, but I guess so. From what I’ve seen, most girls just go on automatic whenever their pimp’s gone, so there’s not really any need for extra watch. She must be new or something.”

That made Clawdeen grimace. She could already imagine the difficulty that was going to come with a new mouth to feed in their group. Ruby already had Clarissa and Shelby in her living quarters, so to have that small little space with a fourth person sounded like it was bound to be hell.

And if she ended up in Aran’s care? God, Clawdeen could already imagine how stressed and pissed off Aran was going to get, having to adjust his schedule in order to get his work done as well as escort her and Clawdeen around.

Deciding to voice her concerns, she asked, “Who do you think she’ll go to? I mean, Grady’s got the biggest stable, but even four at the same time seems kind of too much to take on.”

“You’d be surprised. In places like Vegas and Miami, there can be as many as ten girls to one pimp,” Ruby replied, “She’ll probably go with us. I think Aran could work out with having you and her, but Grady’s got Shelby as bottom bitch to help him out if she proves to be a bit reckless.”

Clawdeen nodded in understanding. They resumed eating, although they snuck peeks at the door as their curiosity got the best of them and they tried listening in on the conversation.

There was the sound of scraping chairs, followed by footsteps to the far end of the room where the door was.

“Well, I assume everything’s now settled,” the sea monster who’d come with them asked, “Tuesday at nine-fifty, the edge of the docks?”

“Just remember, three weeks,” Aran said, “After that, that bitch can squat behind alleyways for all I care, but right after three weeks she is no longer our problem.”

“Yeah, yeah, get it, just show up on time when we meet,” the sea monster replied, “Don’t be trying to cheat me now.”

“Or what? You’ll spit water at me? Relax, we’ll be there,” Grady remarked.

The girls heard the heavy clank as the deadbolt turned as well as the creak of the door opening and closing. The footsteps then redirected towards the suite; both girls straightened up as it flung open, revealing Aran and Grady.

“All right, finish up what you’re doing and gather your trash,” Grady commanded, “We’re leaving.”

With a quick ‘yes, sir’, Clawdeen and Ruby stuffed the wrappers into the main bag before shoving it into the trash can. They grabbed their purses and shoes, before the two men escorted them out of the room and down the staircase of the hotel.

Once they were back at Clawdeen’s apartment, Aran leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, watching as Clawdeen undressed and put on some night clothes.

“So there’s something I need to go over with you,” he said, “Grady and I are carrying a favor for a…an acquaintance of ours, so for the next few weeks, there’s going to be someone else here with you.

“It’s not a permanent thing, but I was asked to watch over her while her master sorts out some things,” he added, “So she’s going to be with us for a while.”

“Is she going to be staying here with me?” Clawdeen asked.

Aran replied, “It’s going to depend. Grady and I both got propositioned, so we decided to switch between who’s keeping an eye on her depending on who’s busy and whose taking her around.”

That was quite surprising to hear, Clawdeen thought. She’d thought it’d be more likely that the two would rather prefer either the girl with the other because they didn’t want to do it or prefer to take her in as one because they wanted more money. The two could barely stand each other, so to hear that they were going to be working together was almost a miracle, if not a bit amusing.

“Don’t get any ideas, now,” Aran said sternly, “Remember, this isn’t going to be forever.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Daddy,” Clawdeen replied. It wasn’t a lie.

Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. Now, about your client for tomorrow…”

The rest of the evening was rather non-eventful; they discussed the johns she’d be meeting with the next day and the times they were to happen. Clawdeen showered when he left and redid her nails, before brushing her teeth and flossing.  

As she snuggled into bed, her thoughts went back to the girl who’d Aran be watching. There was an uncomfortable pang in her stomach, a gut feeling that told her something bad was in store for her.

Clawdeen sighed and rolled over on her side. She prayed that these three weeks would go by quickly.

Otherwise the stress would be having her asking Aran to buy her her own pack of cigarettes.

* * *

 

It was a few days later that she finally got to meet the girl in question. It’d been late at night and she was waiting out by the alleyway near a shut-down post office, trying to catch one last client or two to meet her quota. Clarissa and Shelby stood beside her, also trying to finish up their work before heading home.

“You okay, Clary?” she asked, noting how the redhead kept reaching behind her and rubbing an area on her backside, her expression pinched like she was in pain.

“Yeah,” Clarissa winced, “Just a little sore. Grady gave me the belt last night, is all. He saw me walking on the sidewalk instead of the street for like, two blocks. And he was drunk, so you know how that turns out.”

She attempted to pull her skirt down to smooth out, in doing so briefly exposing her rear. Clawdeen grimaced as she caught sight of the damage; it certainly didn’t look like something that would leave you “a little sore”, Clarissa’s skin having become bright red and purple with large welts.

“Can’t really blame him,” Shelby added in, “It’s such a rookie mistake, walking where people can see you upfront.”

Clarissa’s face went red as she glared at the sea monster, but she said nothing. Clawdeen, however, narrowed her eyes.

She knew she shouldn’t get involved, but it got tiring very quickly to see Shelby always wanting to rub her and the others’ shortcomings in their faces, like the bitch didn’t ever make mistakes. It was like she always had to carry herself as if someone had just pissed in her seawater.

“Is that why you rocked that shiner last week for somehow not realizing you were shortchanged?” she pointed out.

Shelby’s head snapped in her direction, her dark blue and yellow curls whipping her face wildly. The glare in her eyes was murderous, but Clawdeen just stared back, one eyebrow raised in an expression of being unimpressed.

“Wouldn’t you know? I’m surprised Aran doesn’t just hire the local boxing coach to take up for him. Poseidon knows he must be tired of beating your ass every night,” she snapped.

Clawdeen felt her hackles rise. “Maybe while he’s at it, I can ask him to get someone who get finally pull that thorn out of your ass. Thing must be shoved in there so deep you can taste it.”

Clarissa looked nervously between the two of them as they stared one another down. Shelby opened her mouth to respond, but just then, a familiar white Cadillac came from around the corner and stopped in front of them.

The driver’s side window rolled down, revealing Grady. Aran sat beside him in the passenger seat.

“You three, get in, we’re going home,” he said.

They obeyed without question and climbed into the backseat. As they did, Grady looked at Shelby in his rearview.

“Where’s Ruby?” he asked.

“Still out with a john,” she answered, “I’ll text her to let her know.”

Grady nodded in affirmation. Clawdeen stayed silent; she looked around, confused to see they were the only ones in the car. She glanced down at her watch. It was a just half past ten. Weren’t they supposed to be down at the docks, earlier, picking up the girl they agreed to watch?

Shrugging it off for now, she busied herself with counting the money in her purse. Just as she started, though, a sudden loud noise made her pause.

Clawdeen lifted her head. There was a strange muffled sound coming from somewhere in the back of the car; she listened in closely, before it suddenly registered what she was hearing. Her eyes widened in shock.

The equally horrified expressions on Shelby and Clarissa’s faces reassured her she wasn’t just hearing things.

“Um, Daddy,” Clarissa was the one to speak up, “I think there’s…”

She trailed off as a loud scream erupted from the trunk area. The guys didn’t even seem affected by it.

“Don’t mind her,” Grady answered, “The girl we had to pick up earlier was being a little difficult, so we thought it’d be better to put her somewhere where she couldn’t cause too much trouble on the drive back.”

Clawdeen and Clarissa shared a look of alarm. However, they both turned their attention straight ahead, them and Shelby trying to remain still as they were driven back. It must’ve seemed like quite a scene from the outside, Clawdeen, though, all five of them quiet while random shrieking came from the back.

Once back at the apartment, Grady had them get out first, before he and Aran walked around to the trunk.

“Do you still have the chloroform ready?” he asked as he clicked the lock.

“Do you think we’ll need that?” Aran asked.

“Won’t hurt to be prepared. The little bitch kicks like a stallion on steroids,” he replied, before he grabbed the handle of the trunk and pulled it up. He looked into the trunk, a big grin coming onto his features.

“Well, hello again,” he said, “You ready to be a good girl and see your guest room?”

The three of them watched as him and Aran reached in and pulled someone out. They both struggled as the person thrashed with their arms, at one point nearly causing them to drop her.

Grady said, “Ladies. This is Annabelle. I’m sure you’ll do your best to make her feel right at home while she’s here.”

Clawdeen observed the girl, taking her in. She looked to be quite young, though she couldn’t quite tell if it was due to her actual age or if the petite figure and large doll-like baby blue eyes just gave off that impression. She was a unicorn, but unlike the media’s presentation of them being majestic and breath-taking, this girl looked filthy and fragile, like she’d been pushed into a gutter. Her milk white skin was riddled with bruises and scrapes, while her sax blue mane and tail were matted with tangles. Her horn was a bright gold, while her hooves were colored with chipping pink paint and looked slightly overgrown.

“Although,” Grady added, “She may also need some added _assistance_ in knowing her way around. But she’ll get the hang of it, won’t she?”

Annabelle didn’t respond. Frowning, Grady grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed painfully, eliciting a yelp from her that made Clawdeen wince.

“ _Won’t_ she?” the gator repeated, louder.

“Y-Yes, sir,” Annabelle responded with some bite.

Pacified by this submission, Grady nodded and locked his car. “Good. Now let’s head up.”

“Do you need help with her, Master?” Shelby asked as he started to pull Annabelle towards the stairs.

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure you get in contact with Ruby and tell her she’s done for the night.”

Her and Clarissa started in after them, shuffling closely behind Grady as he dragged Annabelle up the stairs, the latter noticeably still putting in some fight. Clawdeen and Aran followed a minute later.

Once back at her room, Clawdeen handed him the money from the evening. “I’m sorry,” she admitted, “I wasn’t able to meet my quota tonight.”

Aran waved her off, “Don’t worry about it. The fee I got from the guy who did the transporting should suffice.”

He looked disdainfully towards the window as he put the money in his wallet.

“Although it’s only a fraction of what he owes me considering the shit I’m gonna have to put up with,” he muttered. He turned towards Clawdeen as she sat on the mattress and removed her shoes.

“Keep an eye on her,” he said, “I can already tell she’s going to be a pain in the ass.”

Clawdeen nodded. She withheld a flinch as she saw his jaw tighten slightly. Already, she could a bout of anxiety start to creep into her chest. She made a mental note to be extra careful about what she said or did around him for the next three weeks- she didn’t need to make it worse for herself by adding to the stress he’d probably feel.

Once he left, she made her way to the kitchen and started making herself a sandwich for dinner. She was spreading some mayonnaise on some slices of bread when she heard something come from the air vent.

“ _P-P-Please wait, n-no. N-No,”_ a small voice called out, “ _Stop! Get off me- OW! No, sto-o-op.”_

She froze. It wasn’t hard to remember what voice it belonged to. Annabelle’s high pitched screams rang out as clear as day through the vents. Clawdeen stood there for a few minutes, stiff as she just listened to the unicorn beg. It didn’t take much to imagine what must’ve been going on that room.

However, after taking a deep breath, she looked back down at her plate and continued with her task, ignoring the sobs as she ate and got ready for bed.

The cries continued as she lay down and closed her eyes. They had become desperate and hysterical, like whatever actions Grady was performing had become more painful.  

Clawdeen fell asleep to them, and the night was a blessing for them to not follow her into her dreams.

* * *

 

“So, who’s the new mare?” Vixen asked.

She had been slightly leaned over to whisper to her, her gaze kept straight ahead as she did so. Clawdeen followed her eyes to see where they had landed upon Grady’s stable where they were seated a little ways off from the stage. Annabelle was seated next to them on Clarissa’s left, the former looking miserable as she played with a frayed edge of her dress.

“She’s only visiting for a few weeks,” Clawdeen replied, “Her pimp’s in jail at the moment, so Aran and Grady are going to keep her in check until he gets out.”

Vixen raised her brows in surprise. “Well, that would definitely be a first for them. You’d think they’d refuse because of the competition. And the two of them working _together?_ You might as well have flying pigs.”

She shrugged, “Well, here’s to the best. At least she’s not with us; not to say Grady or Aran are any better, but I could tell five minutes with James and he’d have beaten her to the moon and back already.”

Clawdeen nodded, frowning as she continued to observe the unicorn. Annabelle was hunched over in her seat, her hands between her knees as her eyes darted back and forth rapidly. Her hair was stringy and hung in her face, giving her an almost feral look. Her knee bounced up and down uncontrollably and she kept chewing on her nails, leaving them jagged and bleeding.

She looked a wreck. She definitely hadn’t been in this type of atmosphere for long. Either that, or she’d still hadn’t gotten used to it. Clawdeen felt pity for her; she could only hope that she’d still be able to perform. Nothing like getting off to a bad start then her nerves preventing her from meeting her quota.

The back door of the room flung open. The girls all looked over as Bryce appeared in the doorway. He jerked his head.

“Get up,” he commanded.

They left their purses and coats on the back couch and made their way to the stage. As routine, they lined up arm to arm on the main stage of the strip club. The strobe lights moved back and forth, flooding all of them in bright pools of yellow, blue, and hot pink, while some indie music that was turned down low played from the back.

Clawdeen pulled at the hem of her dress to try and fan herself- she cursed herself for wearing the heavy satin gown with the humidity today- when she heard a small sniffle to her left. Her eyes slid slowly to Annabelle; the latter was sniffling, her shoulders bobbing up and down as she wiped her nose and her eyes. Her mascara was already smudged around her eyes like the rings of a raccoon, and her lipstick was smeared.

She shot a quick glance in Aran’s direction. He had his back to her, busy with talking about something with a guest. Slowly, keeping her gaze forward, Clawdeen reached to the side and took Annabelle’s hand and gently squeezed it, before quickly letting go.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Annabelle stiffen at the gesture, before she turned sharply and cast a flabbergasted look in Clawdeen’s direction. She stared at her for a few seconds, before she turned back to her original position.

Clawdeen couldn’t tell if the gesture helped much, but she didn’t have time to think about it, as at that moment, the music increased, signaling the showcase was ready to begin.

She stood up straight, watching as the guys weaved in and out of the crowd to negotiate with potential customers and taking note of the people were present tonight. She trailed across the front of the crowd, before she caught the eye of a poltergeist sitting in the back.

He raised his head at the eye contact. Clawdeen smiled at him. She swung her hips slightly, before reaching up to fiddle with the strap of her dress in a teasing manner. The poltergeist broke out in a grin, and she watched as he caught Aran’s arm as the satyr walked by and pointed in her direction.

“So, how long you’ve been here for?” he asked once they were alone together.

Clawdeen smiled as she helped him remove his suit jacket. “A few years. You?”

“Oh, uh, you know, born and raised,” he replied, “I always heard there was always a high number of this type of activity here, but I never actually thought to check it out until a buddy of mine hit me up.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Clawdeen said playfully, wrapping his tie around her hand and pulling him closer to her, “Because I’ve been in need of a big, strong man that I could play with.”

“Maybe I could help you with that,” the poltergeist replied giddily, his hands cupping her backside as she loosened his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.

They settled onto the couch, where Clawdeen straddled him as he pulled down the straps of her dress to expose her torso.

“Your skin is so soft,” he said as he ran his hands along her stomach, “God…”

Clawdeen smiled, reaching up to lace their fingers together. He looked up at her with a mesmerized expression and leaned in to kiss her. Clawdeen made sure to play up her pleasure, moaning loudly as she opened her mouth and grasping his shoulders tightly as his hand slipped under her skirt.

Just as a haze of euphoria began to settle on her, however, she was suddenly alerted to a commotion occurring outside.

“N-No, please-“

“Shhh, just let me do all the work.”

“No, NO! PLEASE, GOD, STOP! STOP!”

They jumped as a shrill scream erupted from the hallway. They looked towards the door; it was shut, but from the open space under it Clawdeen could see shadows darting back and forth, before there was a giant thump against the wall.

“NO! NO! GET AWAY!” Annabelle screeched from the other side of the wall, “STOP! STOP!”

“Get back here you little bitch!” a man’s voice shouted after her.

“HEY!” Grady’s voice shouted from somewhere farther down.

Clawdeen could hear the heavy stomping of his boots coming up from the end of the hallway and the clack of Annabelle’s hooves.

“You said you were going to _behave_ today,” she heard him growl out.

There was the sound of a struggle. Annabelle frantically begged “no, no, no, no!”, before she let out a yelp of pain.

“Help me get her back in the room,” Grady commented.

“Is she gonna be okay?” the other man asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a small sedative. She’ll be out for a few hours, but at least this way she’ll stop being a pain in the ass.”

Their footsteps faded. Clawdeen stared at the door in horror at the exchange. What the hell did they do to Annabelle? What the hell was _she_ trying to do?

“Uh, is there a problem?” the poltergeist asked, looking back and forth between her and the door.

Clawdeen turned to him with a wide smile and cupped his cheek while shaking her head.

“Oh no, just a little misunderstanding is all,” she said, “Now, where were we?”

She wrapped her arms and around his neck and leaned in to lick at his ear. She felt him jerk under her and grasp her arms tighter. She helped him undo his belt and wrapped her arms around his neck as he adjusted their position.

As she moved with him, though, Clawdeen’s thoughts revolved back to what had just happened outside. Whatever had transpired between her and her client, Annabelle was definitely going to have hell to pay once she woke up from whatever Grady had given her. A feeling that was akin to a large rock being placed in her stomach came to her as she thought of what her possible punishments would be.

If Grady was anything like Aran was when he was mad, then she’d be better off flinging herself off the rooftop into the path of a semi-truck. It would probably even hurt less than whatever he was going to do to her.

Distressed at the thought, Clawdeen tried to distract herself by focusing on how the poltergeist was trying to arouse her. She returned his ministrations and made whatever little noises seemed to please him. All the while, she prayed that for the unicorn’s own sake, that Annabelle was good at begging. Maybe that way, at least, Grady wouldn’t break too many of her bones.

* * *

 

When the showcase was finally over, she was allowed to be excused to the bathroom. Clawdeen hurried into one of the stalls to relieve herself; once in, she frowned as she looked down to examine the hem of her dress. Her last john had been a bit too frisky and ended up ripping it at the seams as he undressed her.

“And this was one of my favorites,” she muttered as she inspected the damage. It could easily be sewn up with a needle and thread, but since she was unlikely to get her hands on those anytime soon, she’d just have to walk around in it with a big hole in the side. Classy to trashy in seconds. Great.  

“Jeeee-zus H. Christ, have I never felt gladder for it to be cold!” Starla exclaimed as she walked through the door, “I swear, five more minutes of this crap, and I thought I’d melt.”

Ruby looked up from where she was wiping her nose. “I thought fire monsters enjoyed the heat?”

“We do, but that’s natural heat,” Starla explained, “Not the heat generated by big gross sweaty guys who haven’t showered in four hundred years. God, I probably smell like a sewer rat by now.”

Clawdeen came out of the stall and smiled at her. “I have some perfume in my purse if you want to use it,” she offered.

Starla clasped her hands together and replied gratefully, “Sel, you are a lifesaver.”

As she busied herself with spraying the bottle around her, Clawdeen bent over the sink to wash her hands. Ruby stood beside her, examining her talon polish, and for a few seconds, it was silent.

Such silence was shattered by a muffled shout somewhere down the hall.

“ _-don’t know what kind of shit Nagan lets you get away with in that pisshole, but here you’re going to get down and spread your legs like every other girl here, even if I have to saw your fucking legs off! Got it?!”_ Grady hissed venomously.

“ _Y-Yes!”_ Annabelle tearfully answered, “ _I’ll work, I swear! Please let go!”_

The three of them looked towards the bathroom door. They were startled as it abruptly swung open to reveal Shelby. The latter was stone-faced as she looked in Ruby’s direction.

“Daddy says you have five minutes,” she warned.

Ruby nodded, “I’m almost done.”

Her face had taken on a noticeable pallor. As Shelby let the door swing shut behind her, she turned towards Ruby.

“I take it the new girl’s not acclimating very well?” she asked.

Ruby sighed and rubbed her temples. “It’s been terrible. I guess she had tried to fight the guys when they picked her up, so she was already on their bad side, and then when I guess when they got back home, she tried to attack Grady with a butter knife or something, so she got beat for that.

“Then, this morning he pretty much had to drag her hear because she didn’t want to leave, and then she panicked when with a John and hit him, so Grady ended up sedating her. She just woke up about ten minutes ago.”

 _So that’s what the yelling was all about,_ Clawdeen thought.

“And now she’s bound to be punished again for that,” Ruby added, looking towards the door with dread, “Hopefully that anger doesn’t spill over onto my shit.”

There was a harsh knock from the far side of the mirror.

“ _Ruby, get your ass into gear!”_ Grady yelled.

“Coming, Daddy!” she replied.

She looked back at Starla and Clawdeen with a pained expression, before she hastily gathered up her purse and trotted out the door.

Starla shook her head in pity as her gaze lingered on it.

“Gee, only a few days in and already she’s stirring up trouble,” she said, “That kid’s not going to make it three weeks.”

Clawdeen didn’t respond. She could only stare at the door, the memory of Annabelle’s screams and the sounds she now made echoing in her mind like a broken record.

“So one guy I’ve been in talks with just called me, and he’s willing to pay for an appointment tonight,” Aran said, “But since it’s last minute, it won’t be until eleven. So only go hook for a few hours and then come back so we’re not late, all right?”

“Okay,” she answered, only paying half-attention as they started walking towards the exit.

In the parking lot, just as she was about to get in the car, a flash of movement made Clawdeen look up towards the corner of the lot.

Ruby, Shelby, and Clarissa walked silently towards their car. They looked almost like a trio of soldiers, their backs straight and their gazes set straight ahead as their legs went in sync with one another.

In front of them, a furious-looking Grady was dragging Annabelle by the hair behind him, the latter crying as she tried to pull his hand free, her back hunched over as she stumbled after him.

Clawdeen watched them with a heavy heart. It was hard, seeing someone so terribly overwhelmed and obviously not equipped to deal with such a situation. She wondered if that’s how she looked when she first landed in this mess.

“Come on, Selena,” Aran sternly ordered from the car.

Finally tearing her gaze away, she got in the car and shut the door, looking out the window at Grady’s car until they were out of the lot and it faded from sight.

* * *

 

“….and then he gets the brilliant idea of wanting to use the _whole_ bottle on me, because he has some sort of kink for lube or whatever, so I’m laying there all slimy and sticky like a horse just jacked off on me, and as he begins to walk towards me, he actually _slips_ on the mess!” Clarissa was in the middle of narrating as Clawdeen walked up to the corner.

This time, they had chosen their spot to be one near an alleyway; Clawdeen figured it was so they’d have an easier time of hiding if any cops showed up, but the idea of having to hide near a dumpster without its garbage and smells made her nose wrinkle.

Vixen’s eyes widened. “Gee, that’s got a be major turn-off. Was he all right?”

“Yeah. He said his ankle hurt, but nothing was twisted. I think he was more embarrassed above all,” Clarissa said, shrugging, “We still ended up doing it, but I had to keep from laughing cuz I couldn’t get the image out of my head.”

They looked towards Clawdeen as she took her place besides Vixen. She raised a brow.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked.

“Just Clary giving us another daily dose of the freaky shit she’s done for the dough,” Starla muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Clarissa pouted, “Hey, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I thought if I gave my experiences, it may help everyone feel a bit better about some of the guys they’ve had to be with.”

“Well, don’t. I’d rather not have the image of you spanking some random fatso or him calling you ‘Miss Mommy’ seared into my mind. I have enough nightmares as it is.”

Clawdeen giggled with Kimber and Vixen at the look of mock horror the phoenix dawned on her face. Clarissa jutted her lip out and put her hands on her hips, but quickly gave in to her own chuckles.

It was then that Clawdeen noticed the particular absence of a few figures.

“Where’s Annabelle?” she asked.

That effectively silenced the rest of the girls. Starla, Vixen, and Kimber looked at her in surprise, before turning their own questioning glances in Clarissa’s direction.

The lobisomem frowned and looked down the road, where at the end of the street, the old theater- long since condemned- rested.

“She’s out with a client,” she said, “Hopefully. I’m honestly surprised Grady even let her step foot out of the house, she’s been trying so hard to get out.”

“She’s scared,” Clawdeen said softly, “Considering her situation, she’s also been moved around like some sort of show horse to a place she’s not familiar with.”

Clarissa looked her deeply in the eyes. She said bitterly, “We’re all scared. Doesn’t mean she should go around making it worse for all of us.”

Before she received a response from the werewolf, they were interrupted as a jeep came up and stopped out of the corner, where Shelby and Ruby slid out from the back seats.

“Take care, Dale!” Shelby said excitedly, her smile wide and her voice high pitched at a tone that it almost hurt Clawdeen’s ears to hear. Her and Ruby waved as the jeep revved up and departed.

As it passed the alleyway, it let out a honk at them. The girls gave half-hearted waves back as it drove away.

“Where’s the new bitch?” Shelby asked as they came to stand beside Clarissa, “She better be with a client.”

“Like I can do anything about that,” Clarissa said with a frown, “Relax, I saw her get picked up a few minutes before I left with a guy.”

As if on cue, a figure appeared from around the corner at the end of the block. The darkness made it hard to identify them at first, but Clawdeen could hear the faint sound of something hollow knocking against the sidewalk as they walked, before they stepped out under a streetlight to reveal that it was Annabelle.

She looked a little worse for wear, sporting a fresh black eye and a cut on the bridge of her nose along with a slight limp, but other than that she seemed physically fine. Or, at least better than the way she had a few days prior.

“H-H-H-Hi,” she greeted shyly as she finally caught up to them.

“Did you walk all the way here?” Starla asked.

Annabelle answered, “W-Well it wasn’t very far. He just took us out to the lot of that church nearby, and afterward I told him I’d be fine finding my way back on my own.”

Vixen grimaced, “You did it near a _church_ of all places? Seems a little sacrilegious, doesn’t it?”

Shelby didn’t seem to find any humor in the comment. Instead, she looked downright furious, stepping towards Annabelle with her fists balled.

“You walked back by yourself? What were you thinking?!” she snapped, “You could’ve gotten picked up by a cop!”

Annabelle shrank back, taken back by the sea monster’s outburst.

“I-I just thought it’d be b-better if I did,” she defended, “I-I thought we’d be more likely to get pulled over if someone saw we were in the lot for a long time and then we started driving back.”

“Oh yeah, because people are going to be less suspicious if they see a teenage girl dressed like Pretty Woman getting out of a grown man’s car at three in the morning and walking by herself in the dead of night,” Shelby bit, “God, use your head a bit why don’t you!”

Annabelle lowered her head in shame, her cheeks and nose going bright red with humiliation. Shelby waved her off.

“Nevermind that,” she dismissed, “Did you at least get your money?”

“Yeah,” Annabelle said, pulling out cash from her skirt pocket, “I have about three-eighty so far.”

Clarissa frowned and furrow her brows. “You were gone for a while. You should have a bit more than that.”

Annabelle blinked in confusion. “W-Well, it should be equal to the amounts you said, right? Thirty for a BJ and two hundred for a full hour-“

 _Oh no,_ Clawdeen thought, grimacing in secondhand embarrassment. Next to her, Starla slapped her forehead. Poor ghoul couldn’t catch a break.

“It’s _seventy_ for a BJ and four hundred for an hour!” Shelby exclaimed, “I literally told you the prices this morning!”

Annabelle stopped. She went pale. Her hands clenched on her money. “I-I thought you said-“

“Why the hell would a blowjob be cheaper than a handjob? This isn’t rocket science!” Shelby scolded, “How the hell did you manage to screw even this up?! God, you’re so damn stupid!”

“Leave her alone,” Clawdeen spoke up.

She thought the sea monster was starting to cross the line. She could understand a reprimanding, but Annabelle looked on the verge of tears.

Shelby turned and glared at her. “It’s my job to keep her in line when Master’s not around. Stay out of this.”

“She gets it, she messed up,” Clawdeen countered angrily, “You calling her every name in the book isn’t going to magically make the proper amount appear in her purse.”

“You’re not the one who’s been having to deal with this shit,” Shelby hissed, “You’re not the one getting yelled at for whenever she fucks up because Aran thinks you haven’t been trying hard enough. You might enjoy being a doormat when you’re not being his personal flesh toy, Selena, but some of us don’t.”

That struck a nerve. Clawdeen growled at her, white hot rage flowing through her like a shot of adrenaline. Her fangs glinted menacingly as she bared her teeth.

“Fuck you,” she snarled.

Shelby brushed her nose with her middle finger. “Bite me.”

“Guys, come on, don’t fight,” Kimber interjected, “C-Come, we still have work to do.”

“Yeah, knock it off,” Vixen said, “Everyone just…just calm down. We’ve all had a stressful day and everything’s coming out in a rush. We all just need to take a deep breath and chill.”

The rest of the group looked at either them with varying degrees of wariness. Clarissa rolled her eyes, probably tired of the increasingly common occurrence, while Ruby regarded Shelby uneasily. Starla just looked at Clawdeen expectantly, secretly in the mood for someone to swing, while Annabelle shifted on her feet nervously.

Vixen was right, but in the moment all Clawdeen yearned to do was strangle the sea monster. The grip around her purse was white knuckled and her hands twitched with the urge to bury her claws right in those blue cheeks.

Before she could give in to such urges, however, a car pulled up to her and honked.

“Hey, you, how much?” the driver asked, pointing at her.

Clawdeen glanced at him. Starting to turn towards him, she shot Shelby one last scowl, before starting for the car.

“So you having a good night so far?” the guy asked once she was buckled in, “Seems like service for you ladies seems a bit slow.”

“Just peachy,” Clawdeen muttered, hating how much the sea monster’s words echoed in her mind and managed to get under her skin.

* * *

 

Clawdeen stood against the wall, quietly waiting while her client from the last hour counted out his tip to Aran. He’d given her some cash to get herself something from the vending machine, so she’d bought herself a chocolate bar and a bottle of water before waiting by the ice machine. According to Aran, they’d be less likely to draw attention if they weren’t seen together.

She lifted her head as she finished the last bite of her candy bar, pushing herself off the wall as she smelled Aran coming nearby. He came around the corner and grinned wildly as he held up the cash.

“Well, you certainly made _him_ happy,” he said, “He’s already looking into us coming back. Hell, the way he was talking, you’d think he was planning on you two marrying.”

Clawdeen smiled, “If only, but then I’d have to let down the other guys who already asked the last few times.”

Aran laughed, “Well, maybe you can teach that charm for the new girl. God knows she needs it.”

The soft sounds of indie rock from the radio were soothing to Clawdeen as he drove them back. She leaned her head against the window to rest her eyes, the light melodies soothing to her ears.

She opened them as she felt the car stop. Looking out the windshield, she saw that they weren’t back at the complex, but instead Aran had pulled into a truck stop.

“Wait here for a minute,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Clawdeen turned around in her seat to watch where he was going.

A second later, she heard the back door open. Looking in the rearview, she was surprised to see Annabelle roughly shoved into one of the backseats. The unicorn lifted her head as she caught sight of the werewolf. The two shared a stare, confusion evident on Clawdeen’s face.

“ _…ready to break the deal entirely,”_ she heard Grady snarl outside, “ _I swear, I’m about to just dump her off in the middle of nowhere just to fucking be done with her.”_

 _“Well, I’m here now, so you can calm down,”_ Aran replied, “ _Just a week and a half more and she’ll be out of our hair.”_

_“Yeah, if she doesn’t totally fuck things up first.”_

_“Have you seen her? The cunt couldn’t trot five feet without falling.”_

Clawdeen saw his figure walk around from the back, before he got back in the car a second later.

“So, it seems tonight is the night that Annabelle officially comes home with us,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.

“O-Oh,” was all she could think to respond. She looked in the rearview.

Annabelle’s gaze was haunting, those big blue eyes looking almost ghostly in the dark as they stared back at her wide-eyed.

“Now, it sounds like she’s been a bit of a troublemaker,” Aran narrated, “But I know with us, you’ll do what you can to show her that good things can come if she follows the rules.

“And if not,” he looked in the rearview, “That there will be _dire_ consequences.”

Annabelle started to shake. Clawdeen could see her hands ball into fists in her lap so tightly it seemed like the skin would tear over her knuckles at any moment.

Once back at the complex, Aran roughly guided Annabelle up the stairs, while Clawdeen went on ahead of them. She went quietly inside after he unlocked the door, while Annabelle was shoved in, nearly tripping on the doorframe.

“We have a big day tomorrow,” he said, leaning in to grasp the handle, “So I want the both of you up and ready early. I don’t want to have any _inconveniences_ occurring that may warrant some…immediate action.”

He looked both of them dead in the eyes. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Clawdeen replied.

“Yes, s-s-sir,” Annabelle responded a moment later.

Aran nodded. “Good. At least we understand each other.”

The slam of the door sounded absurdly loud in the small room. The girls stood there, just watching it, as if making any sudden move would trigger the satyr bursting in to bring hell upon them.

Finally, the ache of her feet and stomach became too much and Clawdeen slowly turned to Annabelle.

“Um, do you…do you want anything to eat?” she asked.

Annabelle blinked, as if not realizing where she was, before she slowly turned to gawk at Clawdeen. When she didn’t respond, Clawdeen stepped back awkwardly.

“Um, okay,” she commented, unable to stand the silence.

She removed her shoes and made her way into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator and rummaging through the few rations contained in it.

“I have some juice if you want some,” she said, “And I still have some leftover chips.”

She looked over her shoulder to find Annabelle still staring at her.

“I also have….some makeup wipes if you…want to take all that gunk off…” she trailed off as once again, she received no response. Now, she was starting to get unnerved.

Shifting on her feet, she tried to think of something else. “I also have an…an extra blanket if you want to sleep on the-“

“We have to get out of here,” Annabelle finally spoke up.

Clawdeen paused. Immediately, something inside her went cold. Her hackles went up as she felt her body tense up defensively, like she was preparing to rush into a battle. And figuratively, she knew she was.

She started slowly, “Annabelle-“

“I-If we can just get away from here, w-we can get to the woods, spend some time there until we can find a phone,” Annabelle interrupted, “We can break the window, o-or pick the lock! If you just help me-“

“It won’t work,” Clawdeen cut her off, “They have people watching us. They’ll catch us in minutes.”

“That’s why we do it together! M-My magic’s been low lately because of the stress, but I should still have enough to disguise us o-or create a distraction!” the unicorn continued, her eyes pleading to Clawdeen.

“It _won’t_ work,” Clawdeen repeated.

And it wouldn’t. Aran and the rest of them who worked in the business were always one step ahead. She knew it too well- just when you thought you’d bested them, there was always one more trap to spring on you, one more ace up their sleeve that got the best of you. And once you fell into that trap, there they were waiting to bring the wrath of the devil upon you.

The mere mention of leaving was enough to made goosebumps run down her spine. She bristled, phantom pains making the scars on her clavicle and upper arms tingle and burn like they were fresh.

No, she couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t. Leaving meant Aran’s anger, leaving meant pain. Leaving meant her family- wherever they were or whatever they were doing now- would be in danger. Leaving meant torture, starvation, near loss of sanity.

Annabelle didn’t know the half of it. She didn’t understand.

Still, the unicorn continued to look at her with the look like that of a kicked puppy begging for food.

“ _Please,_ Selena, I can’t do this without you,” she begged, “The other girls wouldn’t help me! We have to do _something_! T-This can’t be our life!”

“It already _is_ our life,” Clawdeen muttered in defeat.

“Selena-“

“Annabelle, just, just stop, okay?” she cut the unicorn off, “It’s not going to work. Believe me…I’ve tried. They’ll know. They always know. So please, just drop it.”

She didn’t want to talk about this. What she wanted to do was get out of this tight dress and take a bath and go to bed. She was tired and had no energy for any what-if’s or hypotheticals; they were all just little fantasies in the end.

Clawdeen turned away and started for her clothes pile, standing in front of it as she reached for the zipper of her dress. She wriggled out of it and reached down to grab a nightgown out of the pile.

Just as she was pulling it on, she heard Annabelle speak again in a small voice.

“Don’t you want to go home?” she asked.

Clawdeen stopped and stared at the wall. Her fists balled at her sides. She replied bitterly, “It doesn’t matter what I want anymore.”

“But don’t you have a family?!” Annabelle declared, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to face her again, to Clawdeen’s surprise, “Don’t you have anyone where you’re from that you want to see again, that wants to see you again? How can you not want to fight for that?”

Clawdeen stared at her, glancing down at her wrist which she still held.

A sudden flash of anger started to boil up in her. Just who did this little brat think she was, trying to bring up stuff like her family? Of _course_ Clawdeen wanted to see them again, but it’d been five years. If there was no sign of helping coming, or someone finding a clue to lead them to her then, it certainly wouldn’t happen now.

Annabelle had no fucking clue what she was asking of her. Aran’s threat from the first night he beat her still rang in her ears like that the painful decibels of a dog whistle. If she left or even tried to leave, he’d go after them. He could have them killed, or sold into slavery like she was. And who was to say he’d stop there? What if he went after the rest of her pack? Or her friends or her classmates?

Escape meant nothing if she had no one to go home to because she made them a target. How dare this ghoul ask her to do such a thing?

“What the fuck do you know?!” Clawdeen finally snapped, ripping her hand away, “You haven’t been here that long, you don’t know what kinds of things they’re capable of! You’re have no right, _no_ fucking right to be talking to me about fighting for something!”

Annabelle shrank back. “I-I-I was only-“

“What? Suggesting we still have a chance? That somehow that hope’s going to magically manifest in the form of an escape route or a phone call from your mom? Look around, you dumbass, hope doesn’t mean shit here!” Clawdeen yelled, “It’s just a stupid little thing to waste your time on to try and make yourself feel better about how shitty things can be! Hope hasn’t stopped us from getting our asses beat, hope hasn’t stopped us from being fucked every damn day, hope hasn’t helped us one fucking bit in the least, and especially not me!  

“Hope stopped meaning a damn thing a long time ago,” she spat.

To her frustration, Clawdeen could feel tears come to her eyes. It was a fact she was faced with every day, but actually saying it aloud gave it a whole new depth as the bitterest pill to swallow: their situation was absolutely hopeless. There’d be no police barging into the rooms to take them to safety, or their loved ones finding clues that would lead them to reunite. If it didn’t happen then, it certainly wouldn’t happen now.

Why waste time on imagining little dreams where police would barge through the front and take them to safety, or that they’d somehow run into their loved ones who could show them love and support once again? It hadn’t happened then; it wouldn’t happen now. Dreams were just that, dreams. They didn’t mean anything when real life was a living nightmare. Pretending to be rescued didn’t amount to shit when reality gave you a broken nose every other week.

No, hope was not a thing to be found in these streets. It had long since been buried underneath the evil that roamed its surface, much like how fresh grass was buried by muddy snow after a snowstorm. Dirty, rotting, forgotten.

Annabelle gaped at her as she finished. She looked so small, now, like the outburst had eaten away at her physical height; as the werewolf finished, her eyes were filled with so much hurt and despair that it was almost painful to look at. Clawdeen could hear small whimpers escaping from her, like she was trying to hold it together but was about ready to burst at the seams.

It was the pose and look of someone whose world had just come crashing down all around them. It reminded Clawdeen so much of herself when she was younger that she forced herself to turn away, unable to look the unicorn in the eye any longer.

“There’s…there’s no hope,” she repeated sadly, “There’s nothing for us left.”

With that, she walked past Annabelle and made her way to the bathroom.

While she washed her face, she heard the most heartbreaking sob come from the living room, before Annabelle started to bawl. Her loud cries were filled with the upmost anguish and sorrow that one from the outside may have thought that she was physically injured.

Clawdeen listened in on them. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

After a moment, she leaned down and went back to cleaning her face, opting to ignore them.


End file.
